been such devotion shown by soldiers as mine have manifested for me. In all my misfortunes, never has the soldier, when expiring, been wanting to me,-never has man been served more faithfully by his troops. With the last drop of blood gushing out of their veins, they exclaimed, Vive l'Empereur !"-" A Voice from St. Helena."

"IF NO ONE WILL PRAY WITH ME, THEN I WILL PRAY ALONE."

IN the village of Bergheim, in Germany, lived a peasant named Jacob, with his wife and one little boy. This child had the blessing of a pious grandfather, who, from his very earliest years, had made him an object of earnest prayer. When he was brought as an infant to church to be baptized, his grandfather chose for him the name of John, saying, "May he be beloved of God in time, and throughout eternity." Although this good old man lived six miles from Bergheim, he often visited the little boy; and often would he lay his hand upon his head, and say, "The Lord bless thee, my child; the Lord bless thee, and keep thee as the apple of His eye." And, as we shall presently see, his prayers were not left unanswered by that tender Saviour who has said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me."

On the day on which his grandfather celebrated his sixtieth birthday, Jacob and Anna drove over, with their little boy, to see him; and John was delighted at the idea of spending the whole day with his grandfather. Jacob could not stay long, but returned home, promising to come again in the evening. However, when evening came, just as he was harnessing the white horse, a terrible peal of thunder was heard, and such a storm came on that he decided it would be better to leave his wife and child to spend the night at their grandfather's. Accordingly Anna had to stay, though she would have preferred going home, for she always felt ill at ease in the good grandfather's presence. Little John, on the contrary, was so delighted, he would not leave the side of the old man.

When evening came, the whole household were assembled

together. John's grandfather opened the large Bible, read a portion of it aloud, and then offered up an earnest and childlike prayer, out of the fulness of his heart, alluding with particular emotion to his birthday. Every one then retired to rest, after a kind "Good-night." The following morning Anna set off, to walk back with her child. It was a lovely summer's day, and the walk, in the cool of the morning, through the birch woods and past several little waterfalls, was most inviting. John was very fond of flowers, and seldom passed them by; to-day, however, he walked through the gaily-coloured meadows, behind his mother, as seriously and quietly as though not a single flower were to be seen. Neither did Anna feel much inclined to talk her mind was uneasy, she did not know why. All on a sudden the child stood still, looked up in her face inquiringly, and said, "Mother, why does not father do as grandfather does?" His mother was somewhat confused: "Go and look for flowers," she said, and continued to walk on.

So they went on silently; but the child did not care about the flowers. Presently they came to the top of a hill, from which was a beautiful view of the distant mountains. Anna sat down to rest for a little while, and John beside her. "Mother,” he then began again, for the second time, 'why does not father do as grandfather does ?" Anna felt impatient. "Well," she answered, rather sharply, "and what does grandfather do?" "He takes the great Bible," said John, "and he reads and prays." His mother coloured. "You must ask your father about it," said she.

When they reached home, Jacob was not there. He was gone out to reap in a field some way off, and would not be back till evening. This the mother knew, and she thought she would persuade the child to go to bed early, hoping that by the morning he would have forgotten his question. But she was mistaken. As she was going to undress him, he began,-"No, mother; just let me wait till father comes home." So, at eight o'clock, his father returned. John ran up to him directly, and asked quickly, "Father, why don't you do as grandfather does?" His

father looked hard at him; the question came unexpectedly. "What are you doing up here, John ?" said he; "go to bed; it's late."

John was silent, but went sorrowfully to bed. He got up the next morning still more sorrowful; he seemed quite another child from what he generally was. He sat silently and sadly at the breakfast-table, with folded hands and head down, without touching his milk. "What is the matter, John? why don't you eat?" asked his mother. John was silent.

After a little while, she asked again, " What is it, then, child?" He looked up at his mother for a moment with an expression of sorrow, and let his head sink again. His father and mother had finished, and were just going to clear away the breakfast, when his mother asked a third time, "Child, tell me what is the matter?"

Then the little boy answered, "I want so much to pray, mother; and if no one will pray with me, then I must pray alone."

This was too much for Anna. Tears filled her eyes. She hastened into the next room to tell her husband what the child had said. He had heard, however, what had passed, for the door was left open; and his conscience was touched. "John is right," said he, "and we are wrong." Then they fell on their knees together,-it was the first time in their lives, and they prayed a prayer, with few words but with many tears. It was the publican's prayer-" God be merciful to us, sinners!" And He who has promised that "if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven," was in the midst of them. He heard their petition, and He helped them.

The happy day had arrived when the little boy would no longer have to pray alone, or the grandfather have to grieve. Father and mother now began to bend their knees together before the Lord, and to besecch his mercy and forgiveness, to ask for a new heart, and for grace to dedicate themselves and their child entirely to Him.

Churchman's Penny Magazine.

EXORDIUM TO PRAYER.

Let us not dream like the sluggard, nor mase like the worldling; nor gaze about like the idle, nor talk like the impertinent, nor laugh like the insolent; but let us seriously mind what we are about: Let us pray.-Dr. Bisse.

Some men's hearts are narrow upwards and wide downwards; narrow as for God, but wide as for the world. They gape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other. The heart of a wicked man is widest downward. But the desires of the righteous, like the temple in Ezekiel's vision, are widest upward, and spread towards heaven.

Bunyan.

Some

Unprofitable discourse robbeth us of much time. simply employ their tongues in telling fabulous and filthy stories; others in discoursing of parties and opinions, and in talking of the faults and miscarriages of other men; some about the times, and inquiring after news. But let Christians, when they converse, imitate their Lord: the words that proceeded out of his mouth were gracious words. John Foxe.

Discontent is a sin that is its own punishment, and makes men torment themselves; it makes the spirit sad, the body sick, and all enjoyments sour; it arises not from the condition, but the mind. Paul was contented in a prison; Ahab was discontented in a palace: he had all the delights of Canaan, that pleasant land, the wealth of a kingdom, the pleasures of a court, the honours and powers of a throne; yet all this avails him nothing without Naboth's vineyard. Inordinate desires expose men to continual vexations; and being disposed to fret, they will always find something to fret about. Matthew Henry.

In the meditation of Divine mysteries, keep thy heart humble and thy thoughts holy; let philosophy not be ashamed to be confuted, nor logic blush to be confounded. What thou canst not prove, approve; what thou canst not comprehend, believe; and what thou canst believe, admire :

so shall thy ignorance be satisfied in thy faith, and thy doubts swallowed up with wonders. The best way to see daylight is to put out the candle.

TEMPTATION.

Quarles.

The devil, tempting Bonaventure, suggested to him that he was a reprobate, and persuaded him to drink in the pleasures of this life, because he was excluded from the future joys with God in heaven. Bonaventure, however, at once answered, "No, not so, Satan; if I must not enjoy God after this life, let me enjoy Him as much as I can in this life."

Rev. Thomas Brooks.

"HE CALLS HIS OWN SHEEP BY NAME."

O that your ears were anointed, and open to hear His voice! He calls you by your name, speaking to you by those Scriptures that are applicable to your character, experience, and need. Do you not often wonder at the marvellous appropriateness of some promise to your state,—at the richness, and fulness, and blessedness of the Gospel, which the opening of some word, like the opening of a door in heaven, unfolds before your delighted soul? Ah, that is the good Shepherd calling you by your name, and leading you out of the desert into green pastures; out of the dry land, where no water is, to the side of the still waters. Hewitson's Remains.

ADVANTAGES OF RUSHLIGHTS.

"I was bred," says Cobbett, "and brought up mostly by rushlight, and I do not find that I see less clearly than other people. My grandmother who lived to be pretty nearly ninety, never I believe burnt a candle in her house in her life. I know that I never saw one there; and she, in a great measure, brought me up. She used to get the meadow-rushes, such as they used to tie the hop shoots to the poles with. She cut them when they had attained their full substance, but when still green. The rush at this age consists of a body of pith with a green skin on it. You cut off both ends of the rush, and leave the prime part, which, on an average, may be a foot and a half long. Then you take