to seek salvation by turning to the Lord. In our worldly enjoyments we have always tried to heighten each others' pleasures by sharing them together. Ought we not to be so in religion? Let me not seem to you as one who stands apart, saying, 'I am holier than thou.' It is not pride nor vanity that has led me to this. Look at me, and see if you can find in your hearts one spark of envy now. Do you not feel pity for me rather! pity for the weakness I have shown-pity for that sensitiveness that was near overwhelming me with confusion and shame when I met your cold and curious glances. I need your prayers and encouraging smiles. I am full of fears, fears for myself and for the honour of the cause I would advocate. Shall I fail when it is in your power to give me courage and confidence? No; I read it in your answering looks of love. God will bless you. Playmates of my boyhood! It was at this altar that we first confessed the Saviour! Shall we ever dishonour that confession or worship at a shrine less holy? Sisters in Jesus! your tears of penitence and joy were mingled with ours. Together we commenced the Christian life, together let us strive to enter upon the blissful rewards of eternity! Fathers and Mothers! remember the children of your love. Where you cannot approve and praise, it is yours to pity and forgive ? ” 1 Elliot sat down and bowed his head upon his hands. The white-haired patriarch arose and offered a short tremulous prayer. Then as before, the whole congregation arose and sung: that glorious hymn, "When all thy mercies, O, my God," seemed to break spontaneously from every tongue. Elliot stood up with the rest and joined in singing, but his voice wavered in the second stanza, and when they came to the third he sat down, and I could see that he was convulsed with weeping. There were tremulous voices besides his and many cheeks wet with tears. Charles had not once raised his head since Elliot's allusion to their mother, but the father stood erect, apparently unconscious that another person was in the house. His hands hung listlessly at his sides and he was singing at the top of his stentorian voice. After the benediction was pronounced Elliot stepped without the railing, and each one as they passed by shook the young preacher's hand, and bade him God speed. Charles was nowhere to be seen after the dismission. I rode home with Mr. Ray, and Elliot followed some distance behind with his uncle. Mrs. Ray rose hastily from her chair as I went in. She was looking very pale, but without noticing me she went to the book-case, took down a large volume, and was returning with it to her seat when her husband entered. ፡፡ "Why, Mary!" he exclaimed, you are not going to study Surveying to-day, are you? God bless our boy! He did nobly! You need n't be ashamed of him-let me put this book in the library-there's your Bible, dear, on the stand." He said this very tenderly, and replacing the book she had mistaken for her Bible, he led her gently back to her chair. She clasped her hands together, and I thought she was fainting, but a glance in the direction she was looking showed me that Elliot had come. I hastened to my own room, for I would not intrude myself as a witness to such a meeting. An hour afterward I passed the door of Elliot's room; it was open, and he stood by it leaning his head against the caseHe looked exhausted and pale, but very happy. He reached out his hand to me, and as I took it, I said: ment. "Your recompense was sure; has not the gleaner already been rewarded with a sheaf! " 'Yes, Sister A." he replied, "and a richer one than he deserved. Charles is in tears in his mother's room; but give her the praise-I owe everything to my mother!" North Western Christian Advocate. DEATH OF A BROTHER AND TWO SISTERS. FOR many years I have had to travel through towns and villages, and from house to house. I have on many occasions felt it to be my duty to speak a word for my Lord and Master; sometimes reproving sin, or pointing the penitent to the “Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world." At other times to speak to the afflicted, tried, and tempted followers of the meek and lowly Jesus. While endeavouring to comfort them by pouring into these disconsolate minds the promises of the Gospel of peace, and in bowing my unworthy knees beside the sick and the aged, peace and comfort have come to my own soul, and enabled me to go on my way rejoicing in the God of my Salvation. During the years that I have been so employed, I have seen many changes in families and in neighbourhoods; sometimes pleasing, and at other times of a painful and distressing nature; such as children mourning the loss of a father or mother, or parents bereaved of their children. One most afflictive circumstance very recently came under my notice, which, if you will be kind enough to give a corner for its insertion in our interesting "Sunday-school Hive," I should like to lay before its readers. There is a small house that I have visited for more than two years, which stands upon an eminence, about eight miles distant from the town in which I reside. The master and mistress are moral people; they had six interesting children, five girls and one boy; four of them attended the Sabbath-school; and, as I have been a Sabbath-school labourer for more than thirty years, I have a great love for children, especially for those that love and obey their parents. These little girls were very fond of singing the praises of God; and as this is a pleasing and profitable part of a Christian's duty—a duty that I have loved from child, there was soon an intimacy formed between these little precious ones and myself. One of their favourite hymns was I was calling, as usual, on the 10th of November, 1853. The doctor was there, for some of these little ones had got the fever. There stood the weeping mother, and a friend. I prayed with them, and departed. Again I visited them on the 24th, and found father and mother in deep distress. Little Isaac, a lovely boy two years and eight months old, had been taken away by death on the 14th of the month. This was a great trial. said, Then Mary, a fine girl nine years old, death laid its icy hand upon her. She told her parents, from the first attack, that she should not recover. One night, during her short but severe affliction, she called her father and mother to come and pray with her. Her father did so, imploring God's blessing upon his dear child. She prayed much herself, and "The doctor cannot do me any good; none but Jesus can cure me." Then she exclaimed, "I am happy; I am better now, He has given me a clean heart, and renewed a right spirit within me. I am going to heaven to my little brother Isaac. I shall never be hungry nor thirsty; I shall never want clothes. Father and mother, you must be good and attend the meetings, and when you die you will come to heaven, then what a happy family we shall be; we shall sing Glory, hallelujah!' for ever." Then she commenced singing, "Come to Jesus, he will save you." She then said, "Father, you can lay down and sleep a short time, and then come and pray again." After this she said but little, and on Sunday, the 20th, she breathed her last. Hannah, five years old, was the next that was afflicted. Her spirit (on the 23rd of November) fled to Him who said, 'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." I hope this afflictive dispensation of Divine Providence will be made a blessing to the parents and friends of the deceased; and it is my earnest prayer, that all my young friends who read this account, will give their hearts to God; and then, when affliction comes, they may, as little Mary, say, "I am happy; I am going to heaven." These dear children often sung the praises of God here, but now they are in a better land, and are happy for ever. They sing the Lamb in hymns above, and we in hymns below; and when you are engaged in singing pretty hymns in our Sunday-school, think about little Isaac, Mary, and Hannah, and try to follow them to heaven. "Children who are gone to glory, Tune their harps, where Jesus reigns." GRANDFATHER. EVIL COMPANY. THE following beautiful allegory was translated from the German Sophronius, a wise teacher, would not suffer even his grown-up sons and daughters to associate with those whose conduct was not pure and upright. "Dear father," said the gentle Eulalia to him one day, when he forbade her, in company with her brother, to visit the volatile Lucinda, "dear father, you must think us very childish, if you imagine that we should be exposed to danger by it." The father took in silence a dead coal from the hearth, and reached it to his daughter. "It will not burn you, my child, take it." Eulalia did so, and behold, her beautiful white hand was soiled and blackened, and as it chanced, her white dress also. "We cannot be too careful in handling coals," said Eulalia, in vexation. |
