forgiven, and love Jesus before they were twelve or fourteen years old, but I know better now. I know the Lord Jesus Christ has heard my prayer, and forgiven me all that I have thought wrong, and said wrong, and done wrong; and oh, I do love Him, and I am sure, father and mother, if you loved Jesus as much as I do, you would want to go to Him. Oh, I wish I could do something for Jesus; but I am so very weak. You know He says in the Bible that if we do something for those who are poor and needy we do it to Him. You know George Taylor; he is very poor, and without father and mother. I have a little money in my box; if you will take it out, and buy a Bible and Hymn Book with my money, and write my name in them, I will put them in a bag and give them to him, and pray that Jesus will make them do him good." How is it that when we are anxious to express our regard for others by giving them some good thing, and the thoughts have been seeking around for some precious object, they so often fix at last on the Bible? If a son is going to the sea, his mother gives him a Bible; if into the army, the gift of affection is the Bible; if emigrating to distant climes, the Bible; if a parting gift to one unspeakably beloved, it is the Bible; if a last bequest to an orphan child, it is the Bible. Is not this an inward conviction that it is the most precious of human gifts? We can no more set a value on the Bible than we could value the sun or the stars, the immortal soul, or heaven itself; it is absolutely invaluable. None feel that so much as those who love it most; and young as this opening bud of eleven was, she had treasured up many of its sweet promises in her loving heart; she had there learned of Christ's love for the young, and could give from memory many portions of His sermon on the mount, and His sayings to those He healed of all manner of diseases; and she wished to leave as her legacy to the orphan boy this pearl of great price. The money went to purchase what she so much desired; her name was written in the books; she put them in the prepared bag; and they are now the property of the orphan boy. But Annie had other presents to bestow, consisting of trinkets, toys, boxes, books, &c. She asked that all her little property might be brought together. These she bequeathed to her father and mother, to sisters Lillie and Sarah Alice, to her brother James Charles, and cousin James Calman. She thought much of her cousin; she had a strong desire he should be a good useful man, a true servant of God. In the book she gave him she wrote her last writing. Having disposed of all, she said, "I know they will take care of what I have given them for my sake, for I know they love me." Like most young people, Annie was fond of singing; and many of those beautiful hymns for the young, especially those that spoke of Jesus, were daily on her lips. The children of this age are greatly privileged by having so many scriptural songs adapted to their young minds, yet containing a wonderful summing up of the truths of the glorious Gospel; and many in heaven and on earth have had the first lasting impressions of saving grace impressed into their youthful hearts by those sweet simple strains. Within a few yards of where I write these lines there lives a poor feeble girl who attended our Sunday ragged school as long as she could crawl or walk, but who is now lying weak and helpless on her couch of suffering. She cannot read a word, yet she can cough and sing. Taking hold of her thin clammy hand last evening, and asking her if she had heard of Jesus, who loved young children, she instantly replied, "Yes; we sing about Him at school." "Well, tell me what you sing, my child." If I come to Jesus, happy shall I be, He is gently calling little ones like me. This poor, dear thing has not been blessed with those home influences that had fallen to the lot of Annie, yet they both sing of Jesus. One of Annie's favourite hymns was— I want to be an angel. &c. After singing it one day she said,— "I think earthly harps hurt the fingers, but harps in heaven won't. When I get to heaven. and I see any of you come, oh, I will then tune my harp and sing louder and louder because you are safely arrived.” Annie's obedience and love to her parents were always a marked feature in her character. When she was in health, and could skip and run about, she was instantly ready to comply with their orders, and now her affection for them seemed to increase. Conversing with her sisters about them, she said, "We have such a good father and such a good mother. I think if I had some nice wool yarn I would knit father a pair of garters before I die. I shall perhaps live to finish them." The yarn was got, and she began her pleasing work, doing all she could for several days; now a few minutes, and now a little longer, but she laid down the needles for ever ere she had finished the first garter; but the father looks at this precious last offering of his child as a token of her earnest desire to please him, gladly yet sadly taking the will for the deed. Those who waited by her bed, or sat for company in the room, often heard her speaking to herself, or repeating some of her favourite hymns, one was— Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly. She also quoted much from the Scripture, and could say the whole of the twenty-third Psalm. Yes she would say, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." But the name of Jesus constituted her sweetest theme. "You will plant flowers over my grave, I know. Plant roses, will you? I like roses. Mother replied 66 'Oh, my dear child, we do not like to talk with you about the grave; but if you wish it we shall plant roses over yours, and often come to your grave to weep." "Will you? Well, I shall not be there; I shall be over your heads in glory, singing for Jesus." As the last enemy came nearer, and began to lock her joints and chill her frame, she could not well understand the feeling, and said,— "Mother, I feel very stiff. How is it ? " "I fear, my dear child, that your end is now That stiffness is like the hand of death, near. my dear Annie." She looked at her mother, who was weeping, saying, with a radiant smile, "Then I am going home to glory; I shall perhaps be there to-night: how sweet the thought. I want to see you all once again before I go." One by one they gathered near the beloved child and sister. Oh! those last gatherings round the dying bed of our dear relations and friends; to see their last look, and hear their last words; and though we may know that they are unspeakably happy, and that the glories awaiting them, and visible to their view, are far more effulgent than the golden hues of heaven on a calm summer's eve, or any other grandeur that mortals can conceive; Yet, when the trying hours are o'er, As they stood in solemn silence, looking at the departing Annie, she fixed her eyes on her brother, and said, James, be a good boy; get your soul saved Jesus will save you. very soon. Comfort father and mother; it will be such a trouble to them to think of your not being on the right hand of Jesus at the last day." She then put her arms round his neck and kissed him, saying, "It will be the last time I can speak to you; do be a good boy, dear James." She then kissed and blessed her sisters, telling them to love Jesus. She had often read and dearly loved the two last chapters of the Book of Revelation, especially the first five verses of the last chapter. She had them read once again. "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse : but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign for ever and ever." She heard the grand words of her God in silence, and seemed in deep meditation. Her face assumed a radiant smile, expressive of the ecstasies of her soul. Words came: those words were, "I shall soon drink of that pure river." Looking at her father and mother, they bent over her to hear her request. She had just strength left to lift her feeble hands, and touch their foreheads; but those feeble hands dropped down again, and Annie quietly breathed her last. Her happy, happy spirit went up to be an angel, to drink of the pure river of life, and reign with Jesus for ever and ever. On the day of Annie's funeral, amongst the many that stood round her open grave, near the Wesleyan Chapel, Padiham, were the children from a neighbouring day school, the orphan boy to whom Annie had given the Bible and Hymn Book, and four young persons with snowdrops in their hands. These latter were her brother, two sisters, and cousin James. When the coffin was gently lowered, and the dear body laid in its last bed, then the snowdrops-those emblems of the resurrectionwere let fall on the lid of Annie's coffin. All hearts heaved; all eyes rained tears. Her sister Lillie, in the fulness of her soul, exclaims, Oh may I triumph so, When all my warfare's past, And dying find my latest foe Under my feet at last. Columbus Sighting America. ERHAPS our friends are aware that two or three weeks ago, two English ships set sail on a voyage of discovery to the North Pole. It is natural that we should want to know all about the world on which we live. We admire the heroic men who brave great dangers in order that we become better acquainted with the earth. But of all the noble men who have enlarged our knowledge of the earth, no one is worthy of so much honour as Christopher Columbus, who first discovered America. He was born at Genoa about the year 1445. His father was a woolcomber. The boy having shown a taste for geography and astronomy, was sent to sea at fourteen years of age. In 1467 Columbus, in order to ascertain whether Iceland was inhabited, advanced 100 leagues beyond, and was astonished at not finding the sea frozen. About the year 1470 he settled at Lisbon, then the great resort of travellers and navigators. In 1486 we find him at Palos in Spain. His coming and appearance have been thus graphically described :- "At the gate of the Franciscan Convent, in the autumn of 1486 stands a stranger-a foreigner-a sailorbegging bread and water for a little boy whom he is leading in his hand. A noble looking man is he, of lofty bearing, yet poorly dressed; not old, but with hair already white. Wayworn and careworn he looks, all dusty and threadbare, his boy hungry and footsore; altogether pitiable and remarkable. This is he who afterwards became the Admiral of Spain. As he is eating and resting, the Prior of the Convent comes up and enters into conversation with him, and asks news of him; he converses, but seems to know little of any news the Prior wants to know. The Prior is struck with the strangeness and fervour of this foreign wayfarer. He suspects that he is entertaining a great man unawares; he, therefore, further presses him to be his guest, and his suspicions becoming stronger every hour, he sent for the most intelligent man of the neighbourhood, a physician of Palos, to meet him. He comes, they sup; the Prior and the physician draw out the stranger into prolonged talk, who gradually unfolds to them the wildest seeming, yet not foolish, project-a project which he has for seeking a new world in the West. Hour after hour wears away while this man talks. tells them the story of his life; and how this idea of his with regard to a New World is no new thing with him; but that he had long cherished it, and submitted his schemes to John the Second of Portugal. He The Prior at length offers him an introduction at Court; and to take care of his boy at the convent, if he would like to go and try to get his scheme laid before the Sovereigns-Ferdinand and Isabella. He accepts the offer and sets out. The Grand Cardinal of Spain takes up his cause, and procures him an audience of the Sovereigns, who issue a summons for a council of learned men to judge of his scheme. This council, after several years of waiting, gives it against him. They think the scheme vain, antiscriptural, and impracticable. Columbus now leaves the Court, and tries some of the Spanish Grandees. He returns to the convent and recounts to the Prior his story since they last Theirs met. The Prior at length goes to the Queen and urges Columbus's suit. The Queen is won over. She is prepared to give her own jewels to pay the expense of the expedition, And now Columbus has orders to fit out three small ships. And on the 3rd of August, 1492, they set sail, On the 9th of September they lose sight of Ferro-the last known point of land. To keep his crew from turning back as soon as half their provisions should be expended, was a main point with him. They are much alarmed. On and on they sail. The crew loudly murmur. He keeps two reckonings, the true one for his own guidance, the other reducing the distance they sailed daily. On the 1st of October, by the true reckoning, they had come at least 2,000 miles from Ferro. Still, still, his sole word to the helmsman is, "West." The crew mutiny. Columbus is firm, and they are quiet again. The crew did not understand Columbus; they thought him at least half mad. seemed a fearful lot. To be out there, no one of them could tell where, nor for what; in the craziest of ships, with bad food daily growing worse and scantier; return growing daily less practicable; to be out there day after day, for weeks and months, and, for aught they know, till they died-this was the lot of Columbus's They hated it. And there Columbus sits; sometimes silent, sometimes with audible utterances of joy, as his crazy ship careers through the waters. His men, sulkily in groups, eye him with mingled awe and hate. He reads what they look, he hears what they say; but he sits unmoved. First and last, early and late, a watcher is he, almost sleepless. And so there he sails, a dim speck on a waste of waters seeming boundless-moving ever onwards to the West: there he sails, with his heart beating quick with the hope that he shall be permitted to plant the cross amid the countless tribes of a new hemisphere; there he sails, full of faith, full of courage—an earnest, heroic man, and an humble worshipper of God. The very day after the mutiny they see a branch of a thorn, with berries on it, float by them; they are all excitement. Again, they see a small board; they are all hope. Again, they see a rudely carved stick; they are all crew. |