devotion. A bad token this. Mend they must, or their case will be utterly hopeless.

The words which dropped from the dying boy's lips were striking.-On one occasion he said, whilst ill, "I must not only learn to say, "Thy will be done,' but learn to bow to His will." While all is according to our desire, we find no difficulty in saying, "Thy will be done;" but it is hard to say so from the heart when all is contrary to our wish. This he felt; yet he was ultimately enabled to acquiesce in the trying dispensations of Providence. At another time, hearing his mother hint that should it please the Lord to take him she must submit, he endeavoured to comfort her, by pointing to the sympathy and compassion of Jesus, as strikingly exemplified in the saved thief. Not long after, seeing his mother and aunt weeping, he called them to him, kissed them several times, and said, "Put your handkerchiefs into your pocket, and ery no more for me; for I shall soon be in heaven, where God wipes away all tears from off all faces."

At

To the question, "Can you part with me for Christ ?" he replied, "Yes, mother; I can now give you up, and father, too, for Jesus; and when I am with Him in heaven, I shall be able to look on you, though you will not be able to see me." first he seemed to cling to his mother; but as he gained a fuller glimpse of Jesus, and experienced more of His love, he felt he could part with her for Him. Parents, do not grieve at this; for Christ has done infinitely more for your son than you have. "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me." Towards the close, the dear little sufferer said, "I am going to be with Jesus; and I shall be ever with Him. I shall not always be singing,

Thou guardian of my infant days,' &c.; but I shall sing,

'Around the throne of God in heaven, Thousands of children stand,'" &c.

By the foregoing sayings, "he, being dead, yet speaketh" to us all. Well will it be with us if we allow his words, coming, as they do, from the borders of eternity, to have their due effect upon our heads, hearts, and lives? Be it ours to study to bow to the Lord's will, to seek to soothe the sorrowing, to be willing to part with the dearest earthly object for Christ, and to live so as at death to be in the prospect of dwelling in the immediate presence of God and the Lamb.

Finally, there is the deceased's little grave.-O, what youth can gaze on that little grave, or on its like elsewhere, without having the thought awakened-I, too, may expire, while youthful; and being constrained seriously to set about preparing for an early tomb! Young friend, have not you felt anxiously respecting your latter end, been impressed with the importance of immediate preparation for death, judgment, and heaven; and even resolved to begin the work at once, when you have heard of the departure of a schoolfellow, a playmate, a juvenile relative, a neighbour's child, or seen some tiny grave? You were then spoken to by that death, or that grave. Did you hearken to the still small voice, and immediately commence to consider your sinful ways, to repent after a godly manner, to rely on Jesus for pardoning and renewing grace, and to live unto the Lord; or did you hush that voice? If you did, Ŏ listen to it this time, as it crieth unto you from Charles's little grave, and yield yourself unto God, through Jesus Christ, without delay. Now ponder the evil course you are pursuing. Now be sorry before Jehovah for the sins of your youth. Now look to the Lamb of God to redeem you from all iniquity. Now be devoted to the Saviour's service. Then be your years like the departed one's, just exceeding nine, or be they many, you will be happy in life, peaceful at death, and blessed through eternity. Witheridge. J. S.

NOBLE SENTIMENTS.

ALL efforts of a material and secular kind for the benefit of India will fail without Christianity; that alone can bring about the moral elevation, without which material progress is of very little value.-J. G. Thomas, Esq., Madras.

It is possible to be even too anxious about the missionary cause; I mean, that we permit our anxiety to pass from that which is its legitimate field-namely, our faithfulness, steadfastness, and devotedness; to that which is not our legitimate field-namely, anxiety about the purposes and plans of God. This work is far nearer to the heart of Jesus than to any of His people; and while our hopes are damped, and our prospects are gloomy, Jesus reigns, and all things shall be overruled for the establishment of His kingdom, and the furtherance of His glory.-Rev. J. G. Miller, of Birmingham.

The wretched system of giving a guinea annually, whether rich or poor, must be given up; instead of throwing mere guineas, men must throw their hearts into the cause; and then, and not till then, will some adequate provision be made for India. Judge Wylie, of the Cal

cutta Court.

Our great want is not now money, so much as the want of power from God. We are gaining power with men; we want power from God; we are getting money, but we want that without which hoards of money are perfectly valueless; if we can be induced to lift up our hearts and voices to the God of all grace, and to plead with Him for the descent of the Holy Spirit, He will make no tarrying. When we say, Lord Jesus, come quickly," He will say, 'Behold, I come quickly, to give to every man according as his work shall be."-Rev. A. Farrar, President of Wesleyan Conference.

"Come,

66

The chief secret of comfort lies in not suffering trifles to vex one, and in prudently cultivating an undergrowth of small pleasures, since very few great ones are let on long leases.

Burns once said-"My idle reasonings sometimes make me a little sceptical; but the necessities of my heart always give the cold philosophizings the lie."

True prayer is not a human, but a celestial gift-the fruit of the Holy Spirit praying in us and with us. This is still the opinion of a great many.

COME TO CHRIST.

Come in, come in to Christ, and see what you want, and find it in Him; He is the short cut, as we used to say, and the nearest way to an out-gate of all your burdens. I dare avoueh, you shall be dearly welcome to Him.

Angels' pens, angels' tongues, nay, as many worlds of angels as there are drops of water in all the seas and fountains and rivers of the earth, cannot paint Him out to you. I think His sweetness, since I was a prisoner, has swelled upon me to the greatness of two heavens. Oh for a soul as wide as the utmost circle of the highest heaven that containeth all, to contain His love! -Rutherford.

THE UNBLESSED MEAL. THIRTY years ago, a little boy, the son of pious parents, was invited to spend a few days at the house of a

FUNERAL HYMN.

FROM THE GERMAN.

COME forth! come on, with solemn song!

The road is short, the rest is long.
The Lord brought here, He calls away;
Make no delay,
This home was for a passing day.
Here in an inn a stranger dwelt,
Here joy and grief by turns he felt;
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door!
The task is o'er,
The sojourner returns no more.
Now of a lasting home possessed,
He goes to seek a deeper rest.
Good night! the day was sultry here
In toil and fear;

friendly family. When dinner came on the table, Philip, though very hungry after his journey, could not be persuaded to touch a morsel of food. Again and again did they urge him to eat, and as often did he look wistfully at the contents of the table, but resolutely declined. At length, the lady kindly inquired if there was any reason why he did not eat his dinner. Bursting into tears, and sobbing so that he could scarcely speak, he exclaimed, "You haven't blessed it!" That family ever afterwards asked the blessing of God on their food, and that little boy is now a missionary in Jamaica.

Good night! the night is cool and clear.
Chime on, ye bells! again begin,
And ring the Sabbath morning in,
The labourer's week-day work is done,
The rest begun,
Which Christ hath for His people won.
Now open to us gates of peace!
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease;
Ye quiet slumberers, make room,
In your still home,
For the new stranger who has come!
How many graves around us lie!
How many homes are in the sky!
Yes, for each saint doth Christ prepare
A place with care.
Thy home is waiting, brother, there.
Jesus, thou reignest, Lord, alone;
Thou wilt return and claim thine own.
Come quickly, Lord! return again!

Amen! Amen!
Thine seal us ever, now and then!
Sacred Lyrics from the German.

CHILDHOOD'S HOURS.

AMID the blue and starry sky,
A group of hours, one even,
Met, as they took their upward flight
Into the highest heaven.

And they were going up to heaven,
With all that had been done
By little children, good or bad,
Since the last rising sun.

And some had gold and purple wings, Some drooped like faded flowers, And sadly soared to tell the tale,

That they were mis-spent hours.

Some glowed with rosy hopes and smiles,

And some had many a tear; Others had some kind words and acts To carry upward there.

A shining hour, with golden plumes,
Was laden with a deed
Of generous sacrifice, a child
Had done for one in need.

And one was bearing up a prayer
A little child had said,
All full of penitence and love,
While kneeling by his bed.

And thus they glided on, and gave

Their records, dark and bright, To Him who marks each passing hour Of childhood's day and night.

Remember, children of the earth,

Each hour is on its way, Bearing its own report to heaven, Of all you do and say.