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nothing in God's book but the black lines of wrath ; but if I write God's word in the book of conscience, I may be sure God hath written my name in the Book of Life."

“ One gleam of light from God's word gives more true light than all the wisdom of man.”

When thou discoverest any faults in others, make the right use of them, which is, to correct and amend the like failures in thyself.

THE FIRST-BORN AND THE SECOND. The first-born! Oh, other tiny feet may trip lightly at“ the hearthstone; other rosy faces may greet us around the board ; with tender love we soothe their childish pains and share their childish sports ; but “ Benjamin is not," is written in the secret chamber of many a bereaved mother's heart, where never more the echo of a childish voice may ring out such liquid music as death has hushed.

At the window of a large hotel in one of those seaport towns, the resort alike of the invalid and pleasure-seeker, sat Ruth ; the fresh sea-breeze lifting her hair from temples thinner and paler than of yore, but stamped with a holier beauty. From the window might be seen the blue waves of the bay leaping to the bright sunlight, while many a vessel onward and inward bound spread its sails, like some joyous, white-winged sea-bird. But Ruth was not thinking of the sapphire sea, decked with its snowy sails ; for in her lap lay a little half-worn shoe, with the impress of a tiny foot upon which her tears were falling fast.

A little half-worn shoe! And yet no magician could conjure up such blissful visions ; no artist could trace such vivid pictures; no harp of sweetest sounds could so fill the air with music.

Eight years since the little Daisy withered! And yet to the mother's eye she still blossomed fair as paradise. The soft, golden hair still waved over the blue-veined temples ; the sweet, earnest eyes still beamed with their

loving light; the little fragile band was still outstretched for maternal guidance, and in the wood and by the stream they still lingered. Still the little hymn was chanted at dawn, the little prayer lisped at dew-fall; still that gentle breathing mingled with the happy mother's star-lit dreams.

A little bright-eyed creature crept to Ruth's side, and lifting a long, wavy, golden ringlet from a box on the table near her, laid it beside her own brown curls.

"Daisy's in heaven,” said little Katie, musingly. “Why do you cry, mamma? Don't you like to have God keep her for you ?

A tear was the only answer. "I should like to die, and have you love my curls as you | do Daisy's, mother."

Ruth started and looked at the child ; the rosy flush had faded away from little Katie's cheek, a tear stole slowly from beneath her long lashes.

Taking her upon her lap, she severed one tress of her brown hair, and laid it beside little Daisy's golden ringlet.

A bright glad smile lit up little Katie's face, and she vas just throwing her arms about her mother's neck to -xpress her thanks, when stopping suddenly, she drew from her dimpled foot one little shoe, and laid it in her mother's palm.

'Mid smiles and tears Ruth complied with the mute request, and the little sister shoes lay with the twin ringlets, lovingly side by side.

Blessed childhood ! the pupil and yet the teacher ; halfinfant, half-sage, what a desert were earth without thee ! Parlour Magazine.


They should come at once, for now is the accepted time; the Bible nowhere invites them to come to-morrow. Today you may repent, and have your sins forgiven; this very hour you may become an adopted son or daughter of the Lord Almighty. Jesus Christ even now awaits to receive and welcome you.

An old man one day taking a child on his knee, entreated him to seek the Saviour now, to pray to him and love him. The child, looking up to him, asked " But why don't you seek God ?" The old man, deeply affected, answered, “I would, my child, but my heart is hard, my heart is hard."

An intelligent, well-educated boy, about twelve years of age, attending a meeting held for conversation and prayer, inquired of one who was assisting the pastor, What he must do to be saved. He was told to " go home and read the Bible, and pray to God for a new heart.” “But," said the little boy, with deep emotion, “Sir, I am afraid I mighi die before I get home, and then it will be too late." The good man invited him to kneel at once and seek the for giveness of his sins. The little boy complied with the last advice, and went home rejoicing in hope, and now, for mort than thirty years, he has been a consistent member of the church of Christ. Yes, children,

“ 'Twill save you from a thousand snares

To seek the Saviour young;
Grace will preserve your following years,

And make your virtues strong."

From the German,

AFFLICTIONS are a good telescope into eternity.

THE SUFFERING CHRISTIAN. Here is the course of many a suffering Christian-his school is a sick body ; his period of study a lifetime; his lectures, pains; his honours, great tribulation ; his exercises, patience ;-but his prize is heaven!

THE ROD OF AFFLICTION. The rod of affliction, which we dread, because it is in God's hand chastising us, often becomes to us an Aaron's rod, by which we recognise our priestly calling as the

people of God, and fellow partakers in the great tribulation. With it our inner life begins even to vegetate and bloom. The rod which at first smote us becomes so precious, that we treasure it up in our holy of holies for «verlasting remembrance.


The disappointments of life are to a Christian the comDandments of eternal love.

FRUITS OF AFFLICTION. After an affliction, it seems as if the Saviour had thrown his arm around us, and drawn us still closer to his heart.

INTERCOURSE. In intercourse with pious friends, we are in the outer court of the temple of the Lord; in the pious domestic circle lies the holy place ; in the closet, in secret before Him, the holy of holies.

THE PRAYING BANKRUPT. SOME twenty-five years since, in a town of some maritime importance, there resided a deacon, who was engaged in lucrative business. Although of prudent habits, his benevolence led him to indorse largely for one who had won his confidence as a Christian brother, but afterwards proved to be a designing knave. This issued in the good deacon's failure, when, with scrapulous integrity, every thing that could be claimed by his creditors was given up. A winter of great severity followed. His wife and young children looked to him for a subsistence which he knew not how to furnish, as his most diligent efforts for employment were unsuccessful.

A debt incurred with no prospect of payment was in his estimation sin; and he sadly saw the little stock of provisions they possessed rapidly diminishing, with no way to obtain more. He was a man of prayer as well as action, and carried the case to Him who feedeth the ravens. Yet long, weary weeks passed, and no succour came. At length the morning dawned when the last stick of wood was on the fire, and little Hatty told her father that the candles were all gone; "and how," asked she, “ shall we take care of dear mamma to-night?”

The question went to her father's heart with dagger-like poignancy. The vision of his suffering wife gasping her life away in the last fearful stages of consumption, her comfortless sick-room, unwarmed, unlighted, and the thick darkness which he knew would enshroud her mind, when made aware of the extent of their destitution, would have driven him to distraction, were it not that he had hope in One mighty to save. He fled to his closet, and there in an agony of prayer besought the Lord for help ; and, forgetting all other wants, pled and pled again for the two now specially needed, specifying them with reiterated earnestness. He arose from his knees in full assurance of faith and with heavenly tranquillity, and went forth expecting deliverance, looking for it, however, but in one way-through his own earnings. But, after a fruitless day of seeking employment, gloomily he returned home.

He entered his gate, and was startled to see before him a generous pile of wood. Little Johnny opened the door, clapping his hands, exclaiming,

“ Oh, pa, we've got some wood and some candles !”

“But where did you get them ? Are you sure they were not left here by mistake,"

"Oh no, pa !” interrupted Hatty, “they were not left by mistake. A man knocked at the door with his whip, and when I opened it, he asked if you lived here. I told him you did. Then he said, here are some candles and a load of wood for him."

"I asked him if you sent them ; and he said, I rather | think your pa don't know anything about it.”

“ Who did send them, then?” said I.

“Oh,” said he, “I mustn't tell, but you may say to your father that they are a present."

But to what instrumentality they were indebted for the relief was a mystery. And what particularly interested

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