ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

And whilst I listened to your song,
Your streams had e'en conveyed me there.

Lord, I adore thy matchless grace,
That warned me of that dark abyss,

That drew me from those treacherous seas,
And bid me seek superior bliss.

Now to the shining realms above

I stretch my hands, and glance mine eyes;
O for the pinions of a dove,

To bear me to those upper skies!

There, from the bosom of my God,
Oceans of endless pleasures roll;
There would I fix my last abode,
And drown the sorrows of my soul.

Anecdotes and Selections.

A POPULAR PREACHER IN the Seventeenth Century.—John Howe says that Dr. Goodwin related to him that he went to hear Mr. Rogers, of Dedham. The place was very crowded. His subject was, the Bible and the neglect of it. "He personates God to! the people, telling them, 'Well, I have trusted you so long with my Bible; you have slighted it, it lies in such and such houses all covered with dust and cobwebs; you care not to look into it! Do you use my Bible so? Well, you shall have my Bible no longer.' And he takes up the Bible from his cushion, and seemed as if he were going away with it and carrying it from them; but immediately turns again and personates the people to God, falls down on his knees, cries and pleads most earnestly, 'Lord, whatsoever thou dost to us, take not thy Bible from us: take our children, burn our houses, destroy our goods, only spare us thy Bible, only take not away thy Bible.' And then he personates God again to; the people Say you so? Well, I will try you awhile longer; here is my Bible for you. I will see how you will use it; whether you will love it more, whether you will value it more, whether you will observe it more, whether you will practise it more, and live more according to it.' But by these actions (as the doctor told me) he put all the congregation into so strange a posture that he never saw any congregation in his life; the place was a Bochim, the people generally, as it were, deluged with their own tears, and he told me that he himself, when he got out and was to take horse again to be gone, was fain to hang a quarter ¦ of an hour on the neck of his horse weeping, before he had power

ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

to mount; so strange an impression was there upon him, and generally upon the people, upon having been thus expostulated with for the neglect of the Bible.'

SLEEPY HEARERS.-Bishop Aylmer, seeing his congregation generally asleep, began to talk in Hebrew, which roused attention, when the old bishop sharply rebuked them for sleeping when they might have understood him, and listening when they knew not a word he said.-A royal chaplain, preaching before King Charles, saw that potentate asleep; he stopped short, and, in a loud and altered tone of voice, three times called out, "Lord Lauderdale :" his lordship stood up and looked at the preacher, who addressed him with great composure, "My lord, I am sorry to interrupt your repose, but I must beg of you not to snore so loud, lest you should wake the king."-Andrew Fuller, one sabbath afternoon, saw the people, during the singing of the hymn before sermon, composing themselves for a comfortable nap; and, taking the Bible, he beat it against the side of the pulpit, making a great noise. Attention

being excited, he said, "I am often afraid that I preach you to sleep; but it can't be my fault to-day, for you are almost asleep before I begin."

HEARING SERMONS.-The state of a person's mind has much to do with the impression which a preached sermon makes upon it. Let a person be in a spiritual frame of mind, and quite an ordinary sermon, feebly delivered, will much interest him; while, if he is in a dark, unrealising frame of soul touching divine things, quite an able discourse, delivered in a decidedly superior manner, will fail to be appreciated, and perhaps be subjected by him to captious criticism. The sad inefficiency of many sermons is owing fully as much to the wrong state of the hearer's heart, as to the want of talent and fervour in the preacher. There was a man who went to sleep even under the preaching of the apostle Paul, and a large number of individuals who plumed themselves on the comprehensiveness and profundity of their learning, denominated him a babbler, and mocked at the folly of his sayings.

LONG SERMONS.-This is the besetting sin of many ministers, and the cause of much mischief. Dr. Emmons' advice to preachers was, not to preach over thirty minutes, saying, "There are no conversions after the first half hour." Wesley held the same opinion, and said in one of his letters, "If any, then, of the preachers exceed their time (about one hour in the whole service), I hope you will always put them in mind what is the Methodist rule. People imagine the longer the sermon is, the more good it will do. This is a grand mistake. The help done on earth God doeth it himself, and he does not need that we should use many words."

THE FIRESIDE.-THE PENNY POST BOX.

The Fireside.

MY LITTLE THATCHED COT.

Ir humble my state, as the violet that grows,
Scarce peeping to view in some far lonely spot;
I feel not the storm of ambition that blows

High over the roof of my little thatched cot.

Though pride may regard me with scorn-looking eye,
It's arrogant frownings shall trouble me not;
There's One HIGH and LOFTY bends down from the sky,
And smiles in sweet grace on my little thatched cot.

Though shining like stars in the splendour of state,
And envied by all as high-blest in their lot;
I ask not the pomp with the cares of the great,
If Providence watch o'er my little thatched cot.

Let worldlings heap wealth as the sands of the sea,
Poor objects of pity! 'tis all they have got;
Let the glad hope of heaven be given to me,

And I shall be rich in my little thatched cot.

The rude hand of time passing over the world,
Its scutcheons of glory with darkness shall blot;
What then will avail, when to ruin its hurl'd,

If mine were a palace, or little thatched cot.

The poor in the annals of glory may shine,

When the memory of sinners now haughty shall rot;
May Jesus my Saviour for ever be mine,

When I am removed from my little thatched cot.

The Penny Post Box.

SINGING versus SWEARING.

In a world like this there are always contrasts.

We have had a letter on "Swearing," and now, as a set-off, or contrast, we have one on Singing." Here it is:

"Sing, Christians, sing! Be thankful, cherish gratitude, and then you will sing. Depend upon it we shall sigh less if we sing more.

'Then let our songs abound,

And every tear be dry."

THE PENNY POST BOX.

I am often surprised to hear so little of praise and thanksgiving in the tabernacles of the righteous. We ought to sing more in our own houses.

'Like larks the saints should often sing,
And praise the Lord while on the wing,
And make the heavenly arches ring."

Who has more cause to sing than the Christian? Forgiven, restored, adopted: full of faith, hope, peace, and joy, one would think his heart would ever be in tune to sing the praises of Jesus. For is there a subject sweeter ?

Your harps, ye trembling saints,

Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of Love Divine,
Bid every string awake.'

Depend upon it if we had more 'singing' we should have less 'swearing.' Singing would hush swearing into silence. It would soon be dumb for very shame. Many a drowsy sot, on a sabbath morning, has stood still to listen to the songs of christians in the house of God.

'Raise your triumphant songs

To an immortal tune;

Let the wide world resound the deeds
Celestial grace has done.'

And then, on a sabbath evening, or on any evening, can anything be more soothing or cheering than to hear, as you pass that house or cottage, songs of praise from its inmates.

'Sing, ye redeemed of the Lord,

Your Great Deliverer sing;
Pilgrims, to Zion's city bound,

Be joyful in your King.'

JESUS CHRIST himself 'sung a hymn' with his disciples even on that

'dark and doleful night,

When powers of earth and hell arose
Against the Son of God's delight,

And friends betray'd him to his foes.'

JAMES says, 'Is any merry, let him sing psalms PAUL says, 'making melody in your heart to the Lord.'

'Sweet is the work, my God my King,

To praise thy name give thanks and sing;
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truths at night.'

God loves singing. Heaven is the place of song. Singing never ceases there. All sing there!

Shall you and I sing there?

"O that I could now adore him,
Like the heavenly hosts above;
Who ever bow before him,

See his face and sing his love!'"

Birmingham.

R. C.

FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry.

HOW VERY TRUE is that saying The Hindoos burn the bodies, -"No man liveth to himself;" for not entertaining any idea of resur- he cannot. His conduct and examrection, but only of the transmigra-ple must have an effect on others for tion of souls into other bodies.

known to make use of the sea as a And when we try we may stumble at regular burial place.