selves. The little child takes hold of his father's hand to pass through a wood; he does not know when and where he will meet with logs and stones to be climbed over, ditches and holes into which he may fall, and serpents which may bite him; but his father's hand holds him and guides him, and will not let him receive hurt.

Mary is sorrowing and seeking her lost child,and she is thus teaching,

2. That children need some one greater than parents to take care of them.

Perhaps no mother ever loved her child more than Mary loved the child Jesus. She had great expectations concerning him. The angel Gabriel gave him his name before he was born. So did Isaiah call him "Immanuel,"-God with us. From the visit of the shepherds and the wise men, and the prophecy of old Simeon, and the thanksgiving of the aged Anna, she hoped great things. But now her child of so many hopes was lost! He might be sick, he might be starving, he might be dying, he might never be found again! Who

could take care of him?

And who can take care of little children? Their parents cannot keep them in health, cannot cure them when sick,-cannot keep them when death calls for them! Who can? They need some one who can keep them and guide them at home and abroad, on the land and on the water. And God is that greater Friend,-greater than father or mother, and greater than the greatest man that ever lived. The child may be lost, but God knows

THE CHILD'S FRIEND.

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where he is. The child may be sick, but he can heal him. The child may die and be taken away from the arms of his mother, and go into that world where she cannot follow him,-but he will take care of him. How I love to feel that every child is under the care of one who can do all things, and who will never forget what is committed to his hands! Sometimes I have been called to see a mother lie on her death-bed, and leave her dear little children behind her; and I have noticed that she commits them to our Heavenly Father, who is faithful to his promises. She must die, but she feels sure that God will live, and that he will take care of her little ones. And sometimes I have seen the mother hang over the little bed on which her dear child lay dying, or bending over the coffin in which its beautiful little body lay,—and I have seen that, amid all her tears, she could feel that her babe was safe. Oh, there is one who is so great, that nothing can be lost from his sight, nothing so far off that he cannot reach it, nothing so lowly that he cannot raise it up. The little coffins in which we place the precious dust of little children will soon decay and be no more; but the eye of God will keep it all safe. They may be out of our sight, but he will always see them.

O Mary blessed above women! thy feet are weary in walking the streets of Jerusalem seeking for the lost child, and thy tears fall fast and thick, and thy head throbs with pain, and thy heart aches with sorrow! But cheer up, weeping one! thy God will take care of him.

child is safe!

III. THE CHILD FOUND.

"And it came to pass, that, after three days, they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing and asking them questions. And all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers."-LUKE ii. 46-48.

The poor little girl who had no Bible-Deaf and dumb Alice-SufferingThe temple-The child found-The little acorn-Christ's kingdom compared to the mustard seed-The mother's gratitude-Memory-Joy.

WE have very few blessings which do not come to us through suffering. In proportion as the horse is well trained and gentle, he had to suffer in being broken in, and learning to be so gentle, and to have no will of his own. The white, beautiful teeth of a little child, that look so much like ivory, caused much pain before they grew up in that regular row.

There was once a poor little girl who had no Bible, and so she had to walk miles every week to read a Bible and get her Sabbath-school lesson. Her little bare feet ached, and her body was weary, and she was one day found shedding tears over her lot,—in not having a Bible nearer. Many a long, weary walk she took through much suffering. At last a good minister of Jesus found her, and not only got her the book, but the story moved many good men till they came together and formed the British and Foreign Bible Society, the greatest Bible Society in the world. And so that great Society came into being by the tears and sufferings of a little girl!

Some years ago a gentleman in Hartford had a

beautiful little daughter. But oh! how the parents grieved when they found that she was deaf and dumb, and could never speak or hear! She was bright and lovely, and no child among them all nestled so near the father's heart as little Alice! And so anxious was he for her, that he had no rest till the Deaf and Dumb Asylum was established, at which hundreds and hundreds of such unfortunate children have since been educated. So all this great good seemed to grow out of the sufferings of little Alice!

The child cannot learn to walk without many a fall. Our blessings come to us through suffering. The physician who is so wise and so skilful when we are ill,-knowing just what to do,—had to see many a sick person before he learned all this. The surgeon who can cut off a broken limb, or cut out a terrible tumour, must go into the hospital many, many times before he can become so skilful. He must see many a limb cut off, and many an operation performed, before he can know how to do such things. He must grow to be a surgeon through much suffering. Somebody must suffer, or he would not have the skill.

There would have been no such great and good man as Moses, had there not been great sufferings among the Children of Israel in Egypt.

There would have been no such man as Martin Luther, had there not been a dreadful state of things among the people.

There would have been no such great and good man as Washington, had not the troubles of his

country raised him np. He grew up in the midst of suffering.

Just so the beautiful story of Christ's being lost and found when a little boy, which so many thousands and millions will read over with admiration, was connected with the sufferings of his mother. How many tears she shed! how many sleepless hours she spent! how little food she took! how she wandered all over the city inquiring for her child! What had become of him? Had he gone up on the walls of the city, and, leaning over, fallen off? Had he gone up to the pinnacle of the temple, and fallen from there? Had any of the wild men of the desert caught him and carried him off, to sell him into slavery in Egypt,-as Joseph was sold? Would she find him dead? Or would she never see his face again? Ah, Mary! it was told thee that a sword should be thrust through thee; and this is the point of the sword, and its first prickings! At night she dreams of him, and starts up from her sleep, thinking she hears his voice calling her name.

Towards the close of the third day, when the multitude are hastening up to the temple, at the hour of sacrifice, the anxious, pale, and care-worn mother is seen mingling with the crowd. Her eye pierces among them, and rests upon every child. But he is not in their midst. At last, weary and sad, the mother leans against a pillar that separates between the court where the people stop, and the great council-chamber where the teachers and learned men are met. The door stands ajar, and she hears their voices. Now she starts for she