in one part of the kingdom especially, have become christians, and the gospel is spreading more and more. May the days come, and come quickly, when all nations shall know its joyful sound!

JESUS! thy conquests still increase;

And while fresh wreaths adorn thy brow,
Let angels celebrate thy praise,

And saints thy growing glories shew!

THE MISSIONARY ON LEAVING HIS PARENTS.

My Father and my Mother! ye have seen me for the last!
How, like a dream, the changing scenes of my early years have passed!
To you and me those scenes are closed-our visit on earth is o'er-

I leave you for the ocean, and the palins of a foreign shore.

My Mother, did ye think it, when I slept upon your knee,

That so soon, from you, your darling child should be severed by the sea?
Perchance ye thought, that when I died, ye should lay me on my bier;
Or did ye hope, in your own last hour, the voice of your son to hear?

My Father and my Mother!-ye my voice no more shall hear!
When ye are on your dying couch, your son will not be near;

But his prayer shall rise to God for you, that joy may be round your bed,
And your hopes be bright, in the solemn hour, when ye journey to the dead!

My Father and my Mother!-not again ye take this hand,

Till, clothed with immortality, we tread the spirit land;

I shall meet you there-I shall meet you there-but not to mingle tears—

I have no farewell to bid you more, for the everlasting years!

N. B.

THE CHIMPANZEE.

THIS animal is of the same species as the Ouran-Outang, but not so large, and its hair is darker, being almost black. It is found in some parts of Asia and Western Africa. It is a lively creature, and soon learns to do many things. It is fond of playing tricks, and will amuse itself when in confinement by swinging on a rope, as you see in the picture. It can lay hold of things with its feet as it does with its hands, so it can climb almost anywhere. One was brought to England a few years ago; but it was sickly on the voyage, and died after it had been in England only a few months. climate was too cold for it.

Our

Some people have been so foolish as to class these animals with human beings; or only a little beneath them. This is wrong, very wrong. They have no power of speech like us. And they cannot invent things, and do things like men. They cannot even light a fire, or keep it burning when it is lighted. And it is well they cannot, for they would do much mischief if they could. They are only beasts, whose spirits go downward; but our spirits go upward to God for judgment. Never forget that for our superior knowledge we are accountable to our Maker.

WINTER COME AGAIN.

On the last day of November autumn ends, and on the first day of December winter begins.

Now, instead of the faded foliage of Autumn, the hedges are shorn even of their withered leaves, looking bare and naked, saving where the scarlet clusters of hips and haws still hang, and the dark-leaved holly, and straggling ivy, occasionally relieve the nakedness with their green. We hear the wind howling about the house at night, like a hungry wolf, trying the window-shutters and doors to get in; and, as if determined not to be disappointed of its prey, it enters the chimney, where it moans, and growls, and roars, as if it had stuck fast, and could neither get up nor down into the warm comfortable room in which it is now really a pleasure to be seated. Then we think of the darkness which stretches over the sea; of the ships which are driven before the mighty wind; of shoals, and sands, and rocks, and wrecks, and great waves that come moaning and beating upon the beach, like hungry monsters seeking something to devour; of desolate moors, and lonely roads, and solitary toll-gates standing at the corners of woods and forests, and bleak treeless commons; and then it is that we really feel there is no place like home. We think of the river side, and the frozen reeds and rushes, white over with hoar-frost; the icy ropes sailors are compelled to handle; the gardener chilled as he cuts greens and digs up turnips half-buried in the snow, and we feel thankful that we have got so comfortable a bed to lie in, and so warm a roof above our heads.

Even the cry of "milk" tells us how early the poor woman must have risen; and we think of the many streets she has had to traverse, all in the biting frost or snow, or through the thaw, before our breakfast-table can be supplied with this sweet beverage. Oh, if boys and girls were only to sit down and think seriously of these things, they would soon be enabled to estimate aright all the blessings and comforts of home; would clearly see how much we are indebted even to the very poor; and that, but for their labour and attendance, we should be left without many things which we now enjoy; that a house, filled with gold, would only be an abode of misery, if our fellow-men refused to administer to our wants; and that the largest estate the wealthiest landowner ever possessed, would be worth but little more than a vast and barren desert, if he was left without labourers to cultivate it. Whatever, then, may be your station in life, always treat the industrious poor with respect and kindness; and you will find them ever grateful, and ready to serve you.

I never like to see the young treat hard-working industrious people with contempt, for they only shew their own ignorance and ingratitude when they do. Just think what you would do now this cold winter if you had all your own coal to get to keep you warm. Why, you would never get it! So always be thankful to God for your blessings, and be thankful too that other people are employed in helping to make you happy and comfortable. We should all try to help one another and love one another, and then our Father in heaven will love us.

PARDON AND PATIENCE.

ONLY a few weeks before his release from the body he was overheard expressing his full confidence in Christ. The occasion was as follows. His pious, widowed grandmother, who occupied another bed in the same chamber, happened one night to be awake and heard him gently say, "Grandmother." Thinking that, if he particularly wanted her, he would speak again, she did not reply. He then added, “I suppose she is asleep. Well, 'I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day; for he hath loved me and given himself for me."" The last interview between him and the minister was alike impressive and instructive. His friend called at the house towards the close of the day before that on which he died, and on inquiring whether he could bear the interruption of a visit, he said, "Oh! by all means let me see Mr. L." His minister, (to use his own words), on looking on him, saw that he was nearly gone, and, consequently, remarked to his excellent grandmother, “I am afraid he is too weak to bear the effort of attending to prayer." He was, however, asked, and immediately replied, "Oh yes, I wish him to pray with me." "Have you a desire I should pray for anything in particular?" he was then asked. "Pray, sir, if you please, that I may have pardon and patience-pardon of my sins, and patience under my sufferings," was his reply. With this his sympathising friend cordially complied, and to his petitions the dying child added his emphatic "Amen." Soon after he ceased to