I am

I see

Jane. Emma was racked with pain from head to foot, so that she could not lay in one position many seconds. Seeing her thus suffer, her tender-hearted mother shed many tears as she stood by the bedside; she wiped the cold sweat gently off the tender brow of her darling child; and as she inclined over her, she moistened the pillow with her tears; and, at the same time, the warm tear dropped on Emma's cheek, as her fond mother pressed her to her bosom, which made Emma look up and say, "Weep not for me; shed no tears for me; I am happy now-I shall be happier soon. full of pain now, but my pains will soon cease; I shall soon be at ease; I shall soon rest in my Father's house-my heavenly home. bright angels near me; I see the shining ones. Look! there are many little ones clothed in white, and I shall soon join them. Hark how sweetly they sing! I long to join them-I long to be near my Saviour and Redeemer. Jesus is with me now. Oh, precious Jesus! He is telling me He will be with me to the last; that He will be with me in the swellings of Jordan, and land me safely on the shores of the heavenly Canaan. I found Him a friend in life; but now, in the hour of death, I find Him an invaluable friend, one who sticketh closer than a brother. I feel that I am going. The time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight; I have kept the faith: henceforth, there is a crown of righteousness laid up for me. Meet me in heaven, be sure and meet me there. Angels are here, beckoning me away. I see the heavens opening, and such glorious, happy spirits-such music hear

how sweet they sing; and I shall sing as sweetly to-night. I am going to sing in glory to-night. I shall sing in glory to-night. A new song will be put into my mouth, even praise to God, for ever and ever." H. J.

NASMITH'S LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN.

MY DEAR CHILDREN,-As I have often told you, our heavenly Father will soon call me away from you, and we shall be separated for a little, until your time come to follow mamma and papa to heaven. I intend writing a series of letters, that you may read when I am absent, setting forth the Lord's goodness to your papa, and the way by which a kind Providence has led me; and thus lead you to praise Him for all -to serve Him better than your father has done-to avoid all that is evil, and seek very great good to sinners and glory to God.

Since I was a little boy-as long back as I remember-I have prayed that the Lord would prevent me from living to myself; and that He would make me very holy, humble, and useful in the world. And this has been, and shall be my prayer for you all, whilst I remain here. I should be very sorry, indeed, if any son or daughter of mine should be a curse in this wicked world; and I feel very desirous that God would be pleased early to take possession of all your hearts, make you His own, and fit you, by His grace, to become very useful in this world, and then take you, being washed from all your sins in Jesus' blood, to wear the white robes of heaven, carry your palm of victory, and cast your blood-bought crown at Jesus' feet, ascribing grace, grace unto it. Yes, my children, it will be delightful to see dear Jesus, of whom we have so often spoken, whose kind words we have so often read with interest, and whose miracles and life we have daily traced with delight; but it will

be better still to be like our Lord. Holy, holy, holy. No sin-no bad hearts. Your beloved mother was delighted when we were supposed to be going to the bottom of the Atlantic, that we were going all at the same time to heaven; but although that was not the case, we shall be so happy when we all meet in heaven, that we shall not find words to express how much we owe dear Jesus for bringing us there. And we shall speak about His love in dying on the cross for us, and of all the way by which He led us in this wilderness, to each other, and to those who shall be with us in heaven; and in singing Moses' songs (as our black sister Mary called them), that eternity will pass on with such joy and delight as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man here to think of. To enjoy the presence and the smiles of our heavenly Father, and to have the sweet company of the Holy Spirit, will indeed be delightful. The holy angels also, who are here ministering spirits to us now, and Abraham, and David, and Samuel, and John, and Paul, and all the worthies, what a company! And O, my children, who are we, or our Father's house, that weshould think of such things? Of our father the Devil, children of wrath, even as others, and heirs of hell. But God, of His infinite mercy, when there was no eye to pity, and no hand to help, sent forth His onlybegotten and well-beloved Son to die for us, and then sent His Holy Spirit, with mighty power, to rescue us from the hands of Satan; and what are we, and whose shall we be? Heirs of God, joint heirs with Christ. Is there a place lower than another? is there a song louder than another? in heaven these should be ours. Come, beloved children; come all of you; wash now in Jesus' and when we meet in heaven, O how happy, how holy, how like our Lord we shall be. Meanwhile, farewell.

blood;

Your affectionate father, DAVID NASMITH.

LETTER II.

BELOVED CHILDREN,-In this letter I shall give you some account of my infant days. The Lord was very kind in giving me parents, who, though not rich in this world, were rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom of heaveu. My father did inherit some property from his father David Nasmith, who, with his father Mungo Nasmith, were eminent in their day as builders, in the city of Glasgow; the latter for building St. Andrew's Church, repairing the spire of the High Church when struck by lightning, &c.; and the former for building the piers between the New and Old Bridge, &c., &c. I was the first-born of my parents, and as soon as it was perceived that I lived, before I had seen the light of heaven, my parents gave me away to the Lord, to be His for time and eternity. The pious female who was my first nurse has told me, that when my father came home after my birth, she put me into his arms, saying, "There, Sir, is your firstborn son and heir;" to which he replied, "May he be an heir of glory."

My father, than whom there, perhaps, could not be a man more diligent in business, but to whom it was not given to become rich by it, and than whom I have never known a more honest man, was necessarily much engaged, and could pay comparatively little attention to my training. What I wanted in this respect in my father, was, to the extent of her ability, made up by my mother, who, with a mother's and a Christian's care, watched over my infant days, and sought early to lead me in the path to heaven. As soon as I was capable of speaking, she taught me to repeat and sing, as I sat at her feet, and helped her to rock the cradle, some of the sweet songs of Zion. The first she taught me was

"And must this body die?

This mortal frame decay? And must these active limbs of mine Lie mouldering in the clay?

"What though corruption's worm

Devour this mouldering flesh? Soon my triumphant spirit comes, To put it on afresh.

"God, our Redeemer, lives,

He knows His people's dust:
He'll raise it up a purer frame,
His promise is our trust.

"Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine;
And every shape and every face
Look heavenly and divine.
"These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus' dying love;

We would adore His grace below, And sing His praise above. "Dear Lord, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs;
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise,
With our immortal tongues.”

Portions of Scripture were also read in my hearing, until they were so familiar to me, that I could repeat them. Amongst the first, if not the first, portion of Scripture I thus committed to memory, so as to be able to repeat it, was the 67th Psalm, in the metre version used by the Kirk of Scotland.

"Lord, bless and pity us,

Shine on us with thy face;
That earth thy way, and nations all,
May know thy saving grace.

"Let people praise thee, Lord;
Let people all thee praise:
O let the nations all be glad,
In songs their voices raise.

"Thou'lt justly people judge,

On earth rule nations all; Let people praise thee, Lord; let them

Praise thee, both great and small.

"The earth her fruit shall yield,

Our God shall blessing send; God shall us bless; men shall Him fear

Unto earth's utmost end."

When five years old, I was sent to school to learn to read; and that I might enjoy additional instruction in the knowledge of Divine things, I was sent, when about five and a-half years old, to a Sabbath school, which had then just been opened by certain members of the church of which my parents were members. At this

time, my parents were in communion with the church under the pastoral care of Mr. Ewing, although at the time I was born they were members of the College Church, and in that church I was baptized. I remain, my dear children, Your affectionate father, DAVID NASMITH.

THE TRUE GENTLEMAN. THE following sketch is called the portrait of a true gentleman. It was found in an old manor-house in Gloucestershire, written and framed, and hung over the mantelpiece of a tapestried sitting-room :-"The true gentleman is God's servant, the world's master, and his own man; virtue is his business, study his recreation, contentment his rest, and happiness his reward; God is his Father, Jesus Christ his Saviour, the saints his brethren, and all that need him his friends; devotion is his chaplain, chastity his chamberlain, sobriety his butler, temperance his! cook, hospitality his housekeeper, Providence his steward, charity his treasurer, piety his mistress of the house, and discretion his porter, to let in or out, as most fit. Thus is his whole family made up of virtues, and he is the true master of the house. He is necessitated to take the world on his way to heaven; but he walks through it as fast as he can, and all his business by the way is to make himself and others happy. Take him in two words-a Man and a Christian."

EPITAPH ON A WATCHMAKER IN ABERCROMBY CHURCHYARD.

HERE lies, in a horizontal position, the outside case of Peter Pendulum, watchmaker. Integrity was the mainspring and prudence the regulator of all the actions of his life. Humane, generous, and liberal, his hand never stopped till he had relieved distress. So nicely regulated were all his motions, that he never

an

went wrong, except when set a-going by people who did not know his key; but even then he was easily set right again. He had the art of disposing of his time so well, that his hours glided away in one continual round of delight, till unlucky minute put a period to his existence. He departed this life, wound up in hope of being taken in hand by his Saviour, and of being thoroughly cleaned and repaired and set a going in the world to come, where he will never want winding up again, but will keep time true for ever!

THE THREE SWORDS.

Ar the coronation of Edward VI., which took place on February 20th, 1547, he being then only nine years old, when three swords were brought, as signs of his being king of three kingdoms, he said there was one yet wanting. And when the nobles about him asked him what that was, he answered, "The Bible! That book," added he, "is the sword of the Spirit, and to be preferred before these swords. That, in all right, ought to govern us, who use the sword, by God's appointment, for the people's safety. He who rules without the Bible is not to be called God's minister, or a king. From that alone we obtain all power, virtue, grace, salvation, and whatsoever we have of Divine strength."

Some interesting anecdotes connected with the youthful days of this excellent prince have been preserved. One day, when engaged with some companions in amusements suitable for his age, he wished to take down something from a shelf above his reach. One of his playfellows offered him a large book to stand upon; but, perceiving it to be the Bible, King Edward refused such assistance with indignation, and reproved the offender, adding, "that it was highly improper that he should trample under his feet that precious Volume, which he ought to treasure up in his head and heart."

"MY MOTHER KNOWS BEST." A PARTY of little girls stood talking beneath my window. Some nice plan was on foot; they were going into the woods, and meant to make oak-leaf trimming, and pick berries. Oh! it was a fine time they meant to have.

"Now," said they to one of their number, "Ellen, you run home and ask mother if you may go. Tell her we are all going, and you must." Ellen, with her white cape-bonnet, skipped across the way, and went into the house opposite. She was gone some time. The little girls kept looking up to the windows very impatiently. At length the door opened, and Ellen came down the steps.

She did not seem in a hurry to join her companions, and they cried out," You got leave! you are going, are you?" Ellen shook her head, and said that her mother could not let her go. "Oh!" cried the children, "it is too bad! Not go! it is really unkind in your mother. Why, I would make her let you. O, Ŏ! I would go whether or no!"

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'My mother knows best," was Ellen's answer, and it was a beautiful one. Her lips quivered a very little, for I suppose she wanted to go, and was much disappointed not to obtain leave; but she did not look angry or pouting, and her voice was very gentle but very firm, when she said, "My mother knows best."

There are a great many times when mothers do not see fit to give their children leave to go where and do what they wish, and how often they are rebellious and sulky in consequence of it. But this is not the true way, for it is not pleasing to God. The true way is a cheerful compliance with your mother's decision. Trust her, and smooth down your ruffled feelings by the sweet and dutiful thought-"My mother knows best." It will save you many tears and much sorrow. It is the gratitude you owe her, who has done and suffered so much for you, and the obedience you owe her in the Lord.

WHAT THE BIRD SAID. "DON'T lag, Johnny," said the little boy's mother, "but go straight to school." "Yes, mother, I will," said Johnny, and off he trudged. When he passed Mr. Wheeler's barn, a robin redbreast flew out of the woods, perched on the nearest bough, and began to sing, just as if he were singing to Johnny, and nobody else. Was it singing, Stop, Johnny, stop," or "Go, Johnny, go?" The little boy loved birds, and redbreast was so near. "It is singing 'go,' or 'stay,' just according to my think," said Johnny. "I think it says 'go,' and I shall go." So, Johnny, in spite of all the pleasant things which tempt a little boy to lag behind school-time on a sweet summer's morning, went straight to school, and was in his seat when the mistress rang the opening bell.

Johnny is right. A great many things have a meaning to us according as we think. To the little boy who said it was too pleasant to go to school, and so played truant, redbreast's note would have been, "Stay, stay, stop, stop;" for he did not love his books, and wanted an excuse for neglecting them.

All along the way, children, there are pleasant voices, which will lead you astray, or forward you in the path of duty, according to the chord which they find in you. The keynote is in your own bosom. Pitch it right, pitch it for the right, and then your life will be a pleasant tune, sweet to father and mother, sweeter to your God and Saviour.

FRUITS OF A REVIVAL. ABOUT two years since, the Rev. S. M. Gould, who had laboured successfully in the ministry some twelve or fifteen years, within the bounds of this Synod, was called to the pastoral care of the Congregational church in Biddeford, Me. In these two years, as we learn from a recent letter, he has seen much of the Lord's salvation to encourage his heart in the work of the

Lord. To the church under his ministry, one hundred and fifteen members have been added; and the harmony prevailing in the meantime among its members has been uninterrupted. Of those added to the church, not one has fallen away; and there has appeared to be no reaction since the revival has subsided. But the cold winters-there is something in a New England winter that seizes a minister by the throat -and we should be gratified if Mr. G. should be constrained to leave Maine, to see him returning to some open field in this latitude.-Phil. Observer.

MEMORY.

OVERBURTHEN not thy memory, to make so faithful a servant a slave. Remember Atlas was weary. Have

as much reason as a camel, to rise when thou hast thy full load. Memory is like a purse, if it be over full that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it. Take heed of a gluttonous curiositie to feed on many things, lest the greedinesse of the appetite of thy memory spoyl the digestion thereof. Spoyl not thy memory with thine own jealousie, nor make it bad by suspecting it. How canst

thou find that true which thou wilt not trust? Marshal thy notions into a handsome method. One will carrie twice more weight, trust and packt up in bundles, than when it lies untowardly flapping about his shoulders.-Fuller.