look down upon the earth and pity his feeble children in this their great distress. He poured into His ever ready ear the sad story of poverty and want. And as he proceeded in this narration, the confideuce he felt in Eim to whom he prayed grew stronger and stronger. His Father -his Father who is in heaven-seemed stooping to listen to his harassed child's supplications. "I know," cried the old miller,-"I know, my Father, that thou wilt not desert me in this hour of trial and of need. Didst thou not send food from heaven to supply the hunger, and make water to gush forth from the rock to quench the thirst of thine ancient people? And art thou not as full of love for thy redeemed children as thou wast for thy chosen ones? Oh, yes! Thou wilt never leave nor forsake them that put their trust in Thee."

The remainder of our story is best told in the words of the miller himself

"I rose from my knees," he says, "with a calm, happy mind, from which the burden I had been for so many days bearing seemed to be removed. My little daughter, too, looked up into my face with a quiet smile, exclaiming in a tone of strong assurance,-'Now, God will make it rain, father.' I could but acknowledge my own strong belief in what my child had said, and from time to time I sought in the sky signs of an approaching storm. Nor was I disappointed. Before an hour had passed, dark clouds gathered in the eastern horizon, and the thunder heralded the coming of the storm. With almost childish delight I hailed the first welcome drops, and when at length the rain descended in torrents I cared not to seek a shelter, but, standing beside the bed of the mill-stream, watched for its rising. Thicker and fister the showers descended, and ere long the little brook began to swell. Higher and higher it rose, faster and faster it ran, until at length the foaming, tumbling torrent reached its usual level. Then with a glad heart I gave the word; the wheel once more revolved, and amid the creaking and the rattling of the gear, we sang an anthem to our Father's praise."-Watchman and Reflector.

SCRAPS.

I see in this world two heaps, of human happiness and misery. Now if I can take the smallest bit from one heap, and add to the other, I carry a point. If, as I go home, a child has dropped a halfpenny, and if, by giving it another I can wipe away its tears, I feel I have done something; I should be glad, indeed, to do greater things, but I will not neglect this.-Newton.

It was the practice of Vespasian, the Roman emperor, to call himself to an account every night for the actions of the past day; and as often as he let slip one day without doing good, he entered upon his diary this memorial"I have lost a day."

Count that day lost, whose low descending sun,
Views from thy hand no worthy action done.

Let man toil to win his living,
Work is not a task to spurn;
Poor's the gold of others' giving,
To the silver that we earn.

Never forsake a friend when enemies gather thick around him, when sickness falls heavy upon him,--when the world is dark and cheerless; this is the time to try friendship. They who turn from distress to offer reasons why they should be excused from extending their sympathy and aid, betray their hypocrisy, and prove that selfish motives only prompt and move them. If you have a friend who loves you,-who has studied your interests and happiness,-defended you when persecuted and troubled, be sure to sustain him in adversity. Let him fel that his kindness is appreciated, and that his friendship was not bestowed upon you in vain.

"Wouldst thou know," said a good man, "whether thy name be written in the Pook of Life? Then read what thou hast written in the book of conscience. If I write nothing in this book but the lack lines of sin, I shall End

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 on ward 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.

い

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 hand 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 was just throwing her arms about her mother's neck to express 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; half- || infant, half-sage, what a desert were earth without thee! Parlour Magazine.

To

WHEN MAY CHILDREN COME TO JESUS? THEY should come at once, for now is the accepted time; the Bible nowhere invites them to come to-morrow. day 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 might 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 more 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."

STRAY THOUGHTS.

From the German.

AFFLICTIONS.

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