could be better. There is a very curious difference between this country and Africa, and some parts of Asia. You have read about the Great Zahara, and the other deserts of Africa and Arabia, where there is no tree, blade of grass, er living creature of any sort. On these deserts the sun shines through a clear sky every day in the year, and the ground and the sand become very hot.

You know how hot a piece of iron or stone gets even in England on a warm summer's day; but in the tropics, where the sun's rays come straight down, it is much hotter. I have often blistered my fingers by laying hold of iron that has been lying in the sun. Well, these deserts get so hot that the wind in passing over them becomes hot too; and these hot winds go for thousands of miles, drying up the moisture in the earth, and withering grass and trees, and plants of every description; and as long as they continue it is impossible, according to the laws of nature, that it can rain; for rain is only produced by the moisture in the air going into a colder district than that from which it came, and these hot winds are of course hotter than the air in other parts of the tropics, and quite dry; so that throughout a great part of Africa, particularly the north, and many parts of Asia, the country is frequently parched and burned up; and the sun is so hot that even the trees cannot bear to be exposed to its rays; so there is a wonderful provision of nature which causes them to turn only the edges of their leaves to the sun, and hence the moisture in them is not altogether dried up. Now, on the west side of the Atlantic Ocean, where Pernambuco is situated, we have the same wind blowing all through the year and from the same quarter; that wind is called the south-east-trade wind; it got the name of trade wind because it is always blowing from and in the same direction; people coming

in ships, either from the north or the south, know that from the equator to about 30 degrees of south-latitude, they can always depend upon this wind during the day. It is a favourable wind either way, helps them on their trading voyages, and, therefore, is the trade wind. Well,

this wind coming over the Atlantic Ocean for thousands of miles is not nearly so warm as those that have blown over hot sand. Nor is it a dry wind as they are, but comes loaded with moisture which the heat of the sun has drawn up, or evaporated from the waters of the ocean. In the evening this wind ceases, and a cool wind, which we call the landbreeze, because it comes from off the land, springs up; the air becomes very cool, and a process, which is called condensation, commencesthat is, the moisture in the air turns from steam, or vapour, into water, and immediately falls down in the shape of rain; so that it rains here nearly every night in the year. We have no hot winds to parch the land; the country always looks green; and the trees being too full of moisture, turn their big broad leaves full to the sun, as much as to say,"If you please, Mr. Sun, will you dry us a little bit, for we are rather too wet. It is this wet which makes this country so productive; it yields, with very little trouble, some of the finest grass in the world; and plenty of sugar, coffee, Indian corn, cayenne pepper, mandioca, sweet potatoes, and cocoa nuts, to send to other countries where those things won't grow. So you see how much more favoured this country is than Africa, and how wonderfully the trees adapt themselves to the climates of the two countries. will write you another letter as soon as I hear from you; but I must now close this, which I do with kindest love from your affectionate brother,

JAMES KIRKHAM,

I

THE Divine Lawgiver will not allow sin to go unpunished, and though a criminal may elude the sentence of human tribunals, a sure and terrible retribution follows him. Conscience is often transformed into a judge more to be dreaded than any human court. We lately met with the following:

James Wood, formerly of Philadelphia, a man of wealth on Chestnut Street, who shot his daughter in 1839, for marrying against his wishes, and escaped the penalty of the law by his counsel setting up the plea of moral insanity," died in that city recently. The old man, stricken by immediate remorse, buried his daughter in Monument Cemetery in that city, close by the wall, built him a little cottage on the outside, and as near as possible to her grave, and there lived solitary and heart-broken.

MARTIN LUTHER'S LAST

WILL AND PRAYER. O LORD, I thank Thee that Thou wouldest have me to be poor and a beggar on earth; I have no house, land, possession, or money to leave. Thou hast given me a wife and children: to Thee I return them: nourish, teach, and save them, as hitherto Thou hast me. O Father of the fatherless, and Judge of the widows! O my heavenly Father, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the God of all consolation, I thank Thee that Thou hast revealed Thy Son Jesus Christ to me, on whom I have believed, whom I have professed, whom I have loved, whom I have celebrated, whom the Bishop of Rome and all the multitude of the wicked do persecute and reproach. I pray Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, receive my soul. My heavenly Father, although I am taken out of

this life, though I must now lay down this body, yet I certainly know that I shall dwell with Thee for ever; neither can I by any be plucked out of Thy hands, seeing that "God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."Old Jonathan.

the

A SCENE. MORE than fifty years ago, the late Rev. Mr. Wood, of Upton, in company with venerable Dr. Emmons, of Franklin, stood by the death-bed of the Rev. Mr. Fish, who was just closing a ministry of about fifty years in Upton, and was soon to receive the rewards of a faithful stewardship. In the course of the conversation, Dr. Emmons remarked, "Well, brother Fish, you are about to die, and I wish to know how you feel in view of leaving the flock to whom you have ministered for almost half a century; your dear family, to whom you are so tenderly attached; and the Association of ministers with which you have been so long connected ?" To which Mr. Fish calmly replied, "In view of separations like these, I am free to admit that I have the passions of a man, but at the same time I rejoice that I have the feelings of a Christian."

THE REDEEMER'S MEEKNESS. How holy stands before every Christian soul the image of the meekness of the Redeemer! How many waves, raised mountain high by the stream of passion in human hearts, has it stilled! How many arms raised in wrath have dropped at the sight of it! If any one virtue is universally expected of a disciple of the Lord it is meekness. It passes

current, just as humility and love, very properly, as a Christian virtue. Indeed, the noble twin-sisters of humility and of meekness are but two buds on one stalk-love. "Love," says the Apostle, " is longsuffering and kind," consequently it is also humble and meek. Meekness has been preached so often, not only through the word of the Lord and His apostles, but much more still by His actions and passion. Is there not a mildness, a sweetness, a condescension in His whole being, so that even if He had not said it, we should directly infer what He declares: "God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved." And one who will save the world can of course come to it in no other garb than that of meekness and kindness.

VALUE OF FIVE MINUTES. THE true worth of a few minutes, which careless people count of no importance, is well shown in an anecdote of Mr. Hubbard.

A number of years ago, it was a custom of the Orthodox churches in Boston (at the request of the chaplain of the State Prison) to furnish about a dozen teachers, who would voluntarily go to the Prison on Sabbath forenoon, to instruct classes of the convicts in a Sabbath school in the chapel.

Hon. Samuel Hubbard was one of those who went. Near the close of the time devoted to instruction, the chaplain said,

"We have five minutes to spare. Mr. Hubbard, will you please to make a few remarks ?"

He arose in a calm, dignified manner, and looking at the prisoners said,

"I am told that we have five minutes to spare. Much may be done in five minutes. In five minutes Judas betrayed his Master, and went to his own place. In five minutes the thief on the cross repented, and went with the Saviour to paradise. No doubt, many of those before me did that act in five minutes which

brought them to this place. In five minutes you may repent, and go to paradise or will you imitate Judas, and go to that place where he is? My five minutes have expired."

THE BOOK.

IF I walk a grave-yard or a cemetery, I ask not who they were, or whence they came, whose bodies lie mouldering beneath the ground on which I tread; but, as a key to where they are, I mentally inquire, Had they "read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested" ONE BOOK? Had its Great Author condescended to teach them out of that Book? Had

He brought them to care for its counsels, to yield to its authority, to regard its exhortations, and to treasure up its promises? Then whosoever they were, or whencesoever they came, or whatever their lot here whether old or young, rich or poorI am left in no manner of doubt or uncertainty as to where they are. I know that all who thus loved the Book on earth are with its Author in heaven! Reader, need I say, that that one book is the Book of booksTHE BIBLE!

BE IN EARNEST.

THE following earnest exhortation was penned by John Janeway, a Puritan divine, who flourished about the middle of the seventeenth century. It is as applicable to the reader as it was to those to whom it was originally addressed.

There is such a thing as being almost a Christian; as looking back unto perdition; as being not far from the kingdom of heaven, and falling short at last. Beware, lest thou lose the reward. The promise is made to him that holdeth fast, holdeth out to the end and overcometh. Labour to forget the things which are behind, and reach unto the things which are before. who is contented with just enough grace to escape hell and to get to heaven, and desires no more, may be sure he hath none at all, and is far

He

from the kingdom of God. Labour to enjoy converse with God. Strive to do everything as in His presence, and for His glory. Act as in the sight of the grave and eternity. Let us awake and fall to work in good earnest. Heaven and hell are before us. Why do we sleep? Dulness in the service of God is very uncomfortable, and at best will cost us dear; but to be contented in such a frame is the certain sign of a hypocrite. Oh! how will such

tremble when God shall call them to give an account of their stewardship, and tell them they may be no longer stewards! Oh, live more upon the invisible realities of heaven, and let a sense of their excellencies put a life into your performances! For your preciseness and singularity you must be content to be laughed at. A Christian's walk is not with men, but with God. He hath great cause to suspect his love to God, who does not delight more in conversing with God and being conformed to Him, than in conversing with men and being conformed to the world. How can the love of God dwell in

that man who liveth without God in the world?"

MAXIMS OF BISHOP MIDDLETON. PERSEVERE against discouragements. Keep your temper. Employ leisure in study, and always have some work in hand. Be punctual and methodical in business, and never procrastinate. Never be in a hurry. Preserve self-possession, and do not be talked out of a conviction. Rise early, and be an economist of time. Maintain dignity without the appearance of pride. Manner is something with everybody, and everything with some. Be guarded in discourse: attentive, and slow to speak. Never acquiesce in immoral or pernicious opinions. Be not forward to assign reasons to those who have no right to ask. Think nothing in conduct unimportant or indifferent. Rather set than follow examples. Practice strict temperance, and in all your transactions remember the final account. "Walk circumspectly, redeeming the time."

THIS child died on the 1st of January, 1861, at the early age of eleven years and five months. She was the youngest daughter of the Rev. Herbert Daniel, Independent Minister at Pontypool and Cefnycrib, Monmouthshire. From a child she was lovely and amiable, free, open, and cheerful, and of a most kind and affectionate disposition. All that

knew her could not help loving her. Since very young she was religiously inclined, and greatly attached to spiritual things; reading, singing and praying was her chief delight; she was always faithful, active, and diligent with the means of grace, and she seemed happy in attending the house of God. The Sabbathschool, the prayer-meeting, and the

Society were near to her heart; she liked to be there. She was very fond of reading her Bible, and other good books; and the book she liked best, with the exception of the Bible, was the Christian's Penny Magazine. She was reading it constantly and attentively, and bore testimony that the reading of it was good to her soul. She was in the habit of saying that all the children of the Sabbath school should have it, and read it; and its circulation was greatly extended in the neighbourhood through her instrumentality. The state of the heathen world seriously affected her mind; she felt much for the little boys and girls that have never heard anything of Jesus Christ; consequently she devoted herself to col

lect for the Missionary Society, and she did so for years with the greatest faithfulness.

When seven years of age she was bereaved of her pious mother, whose great aim it had been to bring up her children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and whose fervent prayers had been unceasingly offered for the salvation of their souls. Nor were these instructions and prayers offered in vain; for the good seed of the Word began early to spring up in the hearts of her children.

After the death of her mother, she used to speak often of heaven, and that she should like to be there with her, and with Jesus Christ, her beloved Saviour. In February, 1859, she was taken ill with the scarlet-fever, after which she never recovered, but was weak and delicate. At the latter end of the year 1860 she became worse, and rapidly faded away. She had to suffer great pains; but retained her full consciousness to the very last. Tuesday morning, the first day of the year, 1861, she died very happy, and her soul fled into the mansions of eternal rest, where sickness, pain, and sorrow are felt and feared no more. Her funeral took place on the following Friday, at two o'clock in the afternoon, when a large company assembled at her father's house to testify their respect for her memory, where the Rev. J. Hopkins, of Elim, read a portion of God's Word, and engaged in prayer; then her body was taken to Ebenezer Chapel, Pontypool, where the Rev. G. Lewis, of Blackwood, introduced the service, and the Rev. M. Ellis, of Mynyddyslwyn, preached from Eccles. viii. 8, "And there is no discharge in that war." By the

grave, the Rev. J. M. Thomas, of Abersychan, delivered an appropriate address, and engaged in prayer; and her mortal remains were deposited in the grave, "the house appointed for all living," in the sure and certain hope of a blessed resurrection.

May her dear relatives, and all the readers of the Christian's Penny Magazine, be prepared to go after

her, so that at last we may all meet in heaven, and meet to part no more -meet, and be clothed in beautiful white robes, and receive a crown of glory; and sing with those that are gone before, "Glory, glory to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever.

A FRIEND.

NEVER TELL A LIE.

How simply and beautifully has Abdel Kader, of Ghilon, impressed us with the love of truth in a story of his childhood. After stating the vision which made him entreat of his mother to go to Bagdad, and devote himself to God, he thus proceeds :

I informed her of what I had seen, and she wept; then, taking out eighty dinars, she told me, as I had a brother, half of that was all my inheritance; she made me swear, when she gave it to me, never to tell a lie, and afterward bade me farewell, exclaiming, "Go, my son, I consign you to God; we shall not meet until the day of judgment."

I went on well, till I came near Hamandai, when our Kafilah was plundered by sixty horsemen. One fellow asked me what I had got?

"Forty dinars," said I, "are sewed under my garments."

The fellow laughed, thinking, no doubt, I was joking with him.

"What have you got?" said another.

I gave him the same answer. When they were dividing the spoil, I was called to an eminence where the chief stood.

"What property have you got, my little fellow ?" asked he.

"I have told two of your people already," said I, "I have forty dinars sewed in my garments."

He ordered them to be ripped open, and found my money.

"And how came you," said he, in surprise, "to declare so openly what had been so carefully concealed ?"

"Because," I replied, "I will not be false to my mother, to whom I promised I never will tell a lie."

"Child," said the robber, "hast