Cijt fain 4 WILL HE COME? Sitting in my humble door-way, Gazing out into the night, Listening to the stormy tumult With a kind of sad delight, Wait I for the loved who comes not— One whose step I long to hear; One who,though he lingers from me, Still is dearest of the dear. Soft ! lte comes—now heart, be quick, Leaping in triumphant pride! Oh I it is a stranger-footstep, Gone by on the other side. All the night seems filled with weeping Winds are wailing mournfully, And the swift rain•tears together Journey to the restless sea. I can fancy, sea, your murmur, As they with your waters flow, Like the griefs of single beings, 'Making up a nation's woe ! Branches, bid your guests be silent ; Hush a moment, fretful rain ; Breeze, stop singing ; let me listen, God grant not again in vain ! In my cheek the blood is rosy, Like the blushes of a bride ; Joy! Alas! a stranger-footstep Goes on by the other side. Ali! how many wait for ever For the steps that do not come! Wait until the pitying angels Bear them to a peaceful home. Many in the still of midnight In the streets have lain and died, While the sound of human footsteps Went by on the other side. MAY MILLER'S NOTE. The last class for the morning was reciting in the little brown school house under the hill. Already little Patty Marlow's red mittens were placed in a conspicuous position on her desk, and her restless feet planted firmly in the aisle, ready to start the moment the signal was given for dismissal ; already many of the boys were shuf fling away their books, with more noise than order ; and even the oldest and most studious of Mr. Wiley's scholars were beginning to yawn and look up from their books. Ope little girl alone seemed to have forgotten that the close of the morning session was so near ; with her head resting on her hand, and her flushed face almost hidden by long drooping curls, she seemed lost to everything but her own thoughts. " I can't, .I can't," her rebellious heart was saying. "She will only laugh. It's such a poor little note, it will do her no good. If I could write nice notes, like, Miss Elden's, they might - be of some use, but this"— Poor little May Miller'! There was no time for further thought; for the class in spelling were taking their seats, and Mr. Wiley's bell was ring ing for all books to be put away. In a few minutes more school was dis missed, and May was in the dressing room, with the other girls who were going home at noon. Little Patty Marlow was there too, hurriedly putting on her cloak, hood, and red mittens, and eagerly telling her dearest friend, Fanny Miles, that she (Patty) could not be convailed upon to stay at noon, for it was her birth - day, and they were to have a regular " company dinner"—roast turkey, plum pudding, and " all the fixings," in honor thereof. But May Miller took no heed of Patty's busy little tongue. A "still, small voice" was speaking to her. "Not willing .to do such a little thing for Jesus ?" it said. "What if Lou Ellis should laugh? How much do you love - Jesus, if you cannot bear a little ridicule for his sake ? Have you so soon forgotten what Miss Elden said last Sabbath ?" " Try this year to work for Jesus. He will accept the smallest action performed from love to Him ?" May's mufflers were all on now. Her resolution was taken.. "I will give it to -, Lou," she said earnestly to herself. - "I must show my love to Jesus in some way. I never do any thing for Him, and He has done so much for me." Lou Ellis sat at her desk, with her dinner basket before her, waiting for the scholars to be gone, when suddenly she saw May Miller tripping down the aisle toward her. "Here's a note for you, Lou," said Marbreathlessly, " please don't laugh at it." "Laugh at it !" Lou exclaimed, "of course not ;" but May was out of hear ing. Lou opened the note with some curiosity, and at first a slight sneer curled her pretty lips as she read ; but it died away, and the close tears stood in her eyes. " I wish I were a Christian," she sighed. " I know I should be happier. Nothing ever seems to trouble May Miller. I'm sue I wish I were like her." " Lou, Lou," called a gay voice from the dressing-room ; " do come in here ; we're having such fun Bodwell— looking more like fossil remains than anything else—and his eleven children, .are going by en masse." "It's no use," thought Lou, "I must wait till I am older before I can he a Christian ;" and hastily thursting the note into her desk—as she supposed— she ran to, join her merry friends. As Lou, with a light step, ran out of the school-roorn, poor Phil. Bar ney came wearily in from the play ground. Phil was a sickly boy, whom nobody cared much about; and now flag, boys had 'been laughing at him becauoe he had so little strength to throw snow-balls, and had at length sent him in " to play cat's-cradle with the girls." He stood shivering over the fire a few minutes, and then walked languidly toward his seat. " No one cares anything about me," he muttered mcodily, " now mother's dead. The boys will never like me till I'm strong, and I'm sure I don't know when that will be. Oh, dear ! I wish I knew how to go to Jesus; the minister said last Sabbath, that He was the best friend we could have.; but I'm afraid I'm not good enough to be His friend." A bit of paper rustled under Phil's foot. He stooped mechanically to pick it _v.p. It was a little note, super scribed in an irregular, childish hand —"Miss Isouise Ellis." No one ever taught poor Phil that it was dishonor able to read a note written to another, so he opened the little missive, and, began to read : " Dear Lou," the note began, "I wish you would love Jesus." Poor Phil's face brightened.. " This is just what I want," he murmured, and as he read the simple note, the way to Jesus seemed to be made plain. At the close, this sentence, "Don't try to make yourself good, but come to Him just as you are," seemed written exactly for Phil, and then came the sweet lines :-- " Just as I am; without one plea, Save that Thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bidst me come to Thee, Oh, Lamb of God, I come.!" Poor Phil took the note to his seat, and copied these lines, and then put it softly, and almost with reverence, in Lou Ellis' desk. That night, in his humble attic chamber, poor Phil repeated that verse over and over on bended knees, and at length lay down to sleep, with-a strange peace in his heart and a strange smile on his lips ; and that night there was joy in heaven, among the angels of God, over one sinner that had re pented. Several years after, when Philip Barney had mad: a public profession of his love to Jesus, this story of her note was told May Miller by her white-haired pastor ; and sweet little May wept glad tears of joy when r as he finished, the good old man, stroking her soft brown curls, said, gently, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days."--* Congregationalist. THE CUNNING ANGLER. SERMON FOR A PUBLIC TAP-ROONE One of the Company. "Here, stranger, drink." Stranger. "No, thank you." Poor Drunkard. "Why, are you a teetotaler ?" &ranger. "No, I can either eat or drink anything I may stand in need of, and thank the great Giver of all good ; for the kingdom of heaven is not in meats and drinks, but righteous ness, peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost.' Poor Drunkard. "Then, if you are not a teetotaler, just tell this company why you won't drink." Stranger. "Well, if all this company will hear, I'll`give a good reason why I do not drink, although I am not a teetotaler." Drunkard. " Hear, hear. Now, landlord, you sit down here, and the missus sit there." All being seated, the sermon goes on. " Freedom is a precious thing to all created beings, but especially to man. Now this book has taught me that man is a willing slave. Yet it also tells me that ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. A short time ago I was a slave, and when I have found myself in a gutter fill over dirt, I then never thought of asking myself the question, what made me play the part of a swine and roll in the mud, when I might have been sober, standing upright? For the book tells me that God made man upright. Now the truth having made me free in sober- Bess of mind, I have made a discovery that temptation is the bait of a cunning angler, and this cunning angler is not seen by mankind. He has many hooks to his rod, and many baits with which he hides the hook ; unconscious fishes bite at the bait, and are then caught by the hook, and. , when a fish is drawn out of its proper element it dies. Now Satan, the prince of dark ness' is the cunning angler ; who baits his hook with drink, lust, wealth, pleasure, pride, fashion, ambition, politics, theatres, balls, p s arties ' and ten thousand other things • of this present life. Men and women are the fishes who bite at the bait, while the hook of the cunning angler, unseen, takes hold of their immortal souls, and everlasting destruction is the conse quence of not being aware of the dangerous position a soul is in when yielding to temptation. Look, for instance, at that poor working man; while he brings home his week's wages the wife and children are all happy and comfortable round their own little fire-side. But a Seeming friend has invited him from his home to the pub lic-house. One glass is taken, then another; that was the bait. Then politics are introduced. Time goes on. The angler, unseen, introduces songs and dances. Oh, how cunningly is the invisible angler watching his victim I No spider ever watched for a fly as the devil is waiting to devour that poor working man. He has drawn him from his family. Poor things, how they, too, must suffer if he gives way to the evil temptation ! Ah ! can God THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 8. 1865. help him? Yes, God sends him help. Will he receive it ? that's the question. Look! God sends him the Bible, which tells him to take heed and beware—to fly—to escape. Goa sends his ser vants; they faithfully point out the danger, show the bait, and warn him of the hook. If he takes theVa,rning, he hearkens to God's voice ; and the book says, Whoso hearkeneth shall` dwell safely, and be free from fear of evil.' But if he hearkeneth not, but yields to the temptation, then,—alas, for that poor man, his wife, and little ones !—the cunning angler, the devil, catches his precious soul, and a great ransom cannot redeem him." One of the Company. "Oh I but God is merciful." Stranger. "Yes ; true, God. is mer ciful, but not to sin, although He is to repentant sinners. And look where He placed. his mercy ; only in his own beloved Son, Jesus Christ. He bore our sins in his own body on the tree, and his blood is the price paid for sin. Oh, yes ; the cunning angler will say, God is merciful,' while he hides Jesus, God's vessel of mercy, and his precious blood and suffering, from the eyes of man. But there is no mercy to be foUnd out .of Jesus Christ, for we are all by nature the children of wrath. Look at that poor father. Once he read his Bible to his little family ; now, having yield ed to the tempter, the devil's substi tute, the newspaper, is provided in stead. Journals, periodicals, and. a thousand fictitious fooleries are the husks he feeds upon. His work is neglected, his clothes are become rags, his wife weeps, 'his children cry for bread, his body is broken, his soul is lost, and. from a public-house he stag gers into a drunkard's grave, and his poor soul down to a drunkard's hell. God gives a power to those who take the warning and receive Jesus. They shall know the truth, and the truth shall make them free, as it has made me this day." The Lord has given many poor drunkards eyes to see at such times, and many a warm grasp has the hand received which noierites, both from saved husbands and rejoicing wives. May God save . the poor people. Amen? —The Revival. The day had been fine, with a mode rate wind from the northwest. When the sun went down behind the ridge of mountains limiting the bay, a per fect calm followed, with a sky abso lutely cloudless. At 4 P. M. there had. been seen one solitary and pecu liar cloud hanging in the heavens to the north about 15 degrees above the horizon. This °lawny - as a deep dar . blue, looking much like the capital letter S. This at last disappeared, and the night set in, still beautiful and mild, with myriads of stars shining with apparently greater brilliancy than ever. I had gone on deck several tigtes to look at the beauteous scene, and at nine o'clock was below in my cabin, going to bed, when the captain hailed me with the words, "Come above, Hall, at once! THE WORLD IS ON FIRE !" I knew his meaning, and, quick as thought, I redressed myself, scrambled over several sleeping Innuits close to my berth, and rushed to the companion stairs. In another moment I reached the deck, and as the cabin door swung open, a dazzling, overpowering light, as if the world was really ablaze under the agency of some gorgeously-colored fires, burst - upon my startled senses How can I describe it ? Again, I say, no mortal hand can truthfully do so. Let me, however, in feeble, broken words, put down my thoughts at - the time, and try to give some faint idea of what I saw. My first thought was, " Among the gods there is none like unto thee, 0, Lord 1 neither-are there any works like unto thy works!" Then I tried to, picture the scene before me. Piles of golden light and rainbow light, scat-. tered along the azure vault, extended from behind the western horizon to the zenith, thence down to the eastern, within a belt of space 20 degrees in width, were the fountains of beams like fire-threads, that shot with the rapidity of lightning hither and thither, upward and athwart the great pathway indi dicated. No sun, no moon, yet the heavens were a glorious sight, flooded with light. Even ordinary print could have been easily read on deck. Flooded with rivers of light. Yes, flooded with light ; and such light 1 Light all but inconceivable. The golden hues predominated ; but, in rapid succession, prismatic colors leaped forth., We looked, we SAW, and TREMBLED; for, even as we gazed, the whole belt of aurora began to be alive with flashes. Then each pile or bank of light be came myriads ; some now dropping down the great pathway or belt, others springing up, others leap ing with lightning flash from one side, while more as quickly passed into the vacated space ; some twisting themselves into folds, entwining with others like enormous serpents, and all these movements as quick as the eye could follow. It seemed as if there was a struggle with these heavenly lights'to reach and occupy the dome above our heads. Then the whole arch above became crowded. Down, down it came; ,. nearer And nearer it approached us. Sheets of golden THE WORLD ON FIRE, flame, coruscating while leaping from the auroral belt, seemed as if met in their course by s ome mighty agency that turned them into the colors of the rainbow, each of the, seven primary, 3 degrees in width, sheeted • out to 21 degrees—the prismatic bows at right angles with the belt. While the auroral fires seemed to be descending upon us, one of our number - could not help exclaiming, "Hark! hark ! such a display ! al most as if a warfare was going on among the beauteous lights above— so palpable—so near—seems impossi ble without noise." But no noise accompanied this won drous display. All was silence. After we had again descended into our cabin, so strong was the impression of awe left upon us that the captain said to me, " Well, during the last eleven years I have spent mostly in these northern regions, I never have seen any thing of the aurora to approach the glorious vivid display just witnessed. And to tell you the truth, friend Hall, I do not care to see the like ever again."—Hall's Arctic Researches. WINTHROP EARL. Rosy mouth and eyes of gray, Soft as twilight's tender ray, Voice like song of robin sung Blooming groves of. May among ; Silken hair in sunny curl— How we loved him—Winthrop Earl! Twice the summer round his head Wreathed its roses white and red ; Twice o'er garden, roof, and wall Light he watched the snow-flakes fall ; Then from life's bewildering whirl Fled for ever—lyinthrop tarl 1 Stars might call him, winds entreat, ,Naught could stay his parting feet ; Love nor prayer nor weeping gain Respite from this hour of pain. Oh, that Heaven such bolt should hurl Through our sunshine—Winthrop Earl! Ere had blown one chilling breeze Lo ! he sought unruffled seas ! Shunned the gulfs, the treacherous sands, Near the far, celestial lands,— So a stainless sail to furl - In God's harbor—Winthrop Earl I Now the robin sings alone; All All the house has darker grown: Yet we would not bring him back, Song and sunshine though we lack,— Glad that past the gates of pearl Jesus folds him—Winthrop Earl 1 PROVIDENCE. It was in the depth of winter, a time when want- and distress among the poor are , most felt. Near a certain forest there stood a little cottage, where Joseph and Ann and their eight children lived, and where love and industry, and gentje pious minds were tb be found also. The children, how ever, did not look merry and happy as formerly, bursorrowful and pale. Their parents had been many days without work or wages, and all their industry. could not procure bread for their children. One Sunday morning Ann called her little ones together, and said, "Come and divide the last morsel of bread we have left. I know not where we - shall find any more, or how we shall obtain any help." The children eagerly took the bread, and divided it, but begged that their father and mother would take a share. "We shall feel less hungry," they said, "if you will eat some too. - Many tears were shed while the last morsels of bread were eaten ; only one little boy still smiled, and he was too young to know anything of the dis tress, or to have any of the fears which the others had for the future, which seemed so dark before them. Should we not all strive like little children, to trust the future to our Heavenly Father's care? The morning was bright and clear, and little Elizabeth, as she ate her portion, opened the door and went out. It was bitterly cold, but she thought it pleasant, as she looked at the pure blue sky, and the trees in the forest, all white and glittering in their dress of snow. As she stood she heard a faint chirping sound, and looking about she saw a little bird upon the ground. It seemed almost dead with hung:er, and could not - move its wearied wings. It was trying in vain to free itself froth the cold, deep snow, which for many days had been falling heavily. "Poor littl bird!" said the little girl, "are you cold and hungry too ?" She took it up and pressed it to her face tenderly, trying to warm it. She fed it with her last crumbs of bread, and then carefully carried it into the house. "See, mother," said she, "this poor little bird must not die of hunger and cold. I found it shivering in the snow.' _ Then a bright thought of hope, like a gleam °flight, came into the mother's heart, and with glad and trusting look, she said, " Not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father sees it. 1 believe the words of our Saviour. All the hairs of our head are numbered. Shall Ibe so sad and anxious, since He cares for the birds.? Children, let us pray to Him." She had hardly said these words when her husband came in, and direct ly following hiin came a rich gentle man who lived not far distant. He was rich in lands and possessions, and rich, too, in eharity. "God comfort you," he said as he came in, "the help of man is not suffi cient. Wily, Joseph, did you not tell, me of such need as I see among you? I am alone and have abundance, which God has entrusted,to me. I. was 9praing from phurch, andstill,thinking of the word I heard there, how we ought to love each other. .As I was passing near this cottage, I saw your little. child, half naked and pale with hanger, how she cared for a little bird, and gave it her last crumb of bread, and I took it as a sign to myself what. I ought to do. I hastened home, and made still greater haste to return, and overtook her father at the door, and could see how heavy his heart was with care. And now, little one, come here—come, and I will repay you'for what you did for the bird." And he took from the fold of his cloak a basket filled with pro visions of various, kinds, and, giving it to Elizabeth, he said, "Now divide these." Her bright eyes sparkled with delight. How the children rejoiced, I and. all began to partake of the food which the little girl rejoiced in having to give. "Ah, see," said Ann, "how God. has heard our prayers." Tears filled the eyes of the good man. " Listen," said he to Joseph, "I will give you work from this time .on my own land, and just remember when you are in need I have enough for you." And then he hastened from the door, leaving behind him the sound of thanks and joyful weeping. From that time the cottage beside the forest was never destitute of food, though want still lay heavily on the country around. The gentle little Elizabeth nursed her bird till spring came, and then set free the little mes senger, which had seemed to bring them tidings that help was at hand. "Fly away now," said Ann, "you brought us a happy promise, and well it was fullfilled. Oh, my children, forget it not! Every word of Our. Saviour is truth indeed." tilt fig gittls fothz. F IMILIAR TALES. WITH THE CHIL DREN. IX. BY RBV. EDWARD PAYSON HAMMOND "I THOUGHT MORE OF DANCING-SCHOOL THAN OF JF,SUS." These are strange words from little Gardelia, only eleven years old. But she has changed her mind, and she now thinks more of Jesus than. of all the dancing-schools in the world. It was more than eight months ago when she wrote these words, and I saw her only a few weeks ago, and she still thinks more of Jesus than of dancing schools. I want to tell you how happy I am. I feel like singing all the time. Before you came I never thought of loving Jesus; I thought more of dancing-school than of Jesus. Last Christmas my dear ma gave J2IE• a Bible for a present. I promised her to read it every day, but I have often - forgotten it. When she asked me to read it in the evening, I, often made excuses ; but I do not do that now. I love to read it every day, and Ihope many other little girls will learn to love Jesus and the Bible when they hear you tell of the loving Jesus. I want.other little girls to feel as happy as I do, so that they can sing those beautiful hymns; "Jesus loves me " "I Jesus," "-He's Jesus, yes I do," " I do love my Saviour," and "Jesus is mine." I hope you will pray for me that I may keep my promise and that I may love Jesus more and more every day. _ Your little friend, CORDELIA. Here is another letter from one a little older, and it seems to have been harder for this Sabbath-school scholar to come to the dear loving Saviour. When you read this Sabbath-school scholar's letter, you will gee that the reason she did not find peace sooner after she found out that she was lost, was because she kept thinking about herself and did not look sooner to "the loving Jesus on the cross." And if you have been anxious about your soul, my young friend, and have not yet found peace and pardon, this is just the reason. Jesus says, " Look unto me and be ye saved." In Rome I have seen little children going on their knees up the "Holy Stairs" which they say Jesus in the, house of Pilate once stood upon. I have seen thein kiss these cold stone steps, but they did not look one bit happier after they had been there a long time, repeating Latin prayers they could not understand. But I have seen hun dreds of little ones turning their weep ing eyes to the bleeding Saviour dying on the cruel cross for them, and - with faith they have heard his loving, ten der words, " See my bleeding brow, my pierced hands and feet. Lhave suf fered this for you. lam here wounded for your transgressions, bruised for your iniquities. A holy God can now pardon you for my sake. He will take away that naughty wicked heart;"and give you a new heart for my sake. Trust in me—my blood will wash all your sins away." Ah, cannot you too, my dear little anxious friend, hear the dear loving Saviour saying these kind words to you ? He loves you as much as these hundreds of little ones whom He washed in his precious blood. He is as able to take you home to heaven as He was the thousands who stand "around the throne of God in heaven, shirring glory, glory, glory." When you have read this letter I hope you will kneel down and ask God by his Holy Spirit to show you Jesus on the cross looking at you and offering pardon. Since last fall, when my dear Sabbath school teacher told-me one of my class had found the Saviour, I thought I would give any thing and every thing if I also was a Christian. • - The first Sabbath you spoke` in this eity I thought if I did not seek Jesus now, I should never have another chance. At the clo,e of the meeting I went in the chapel to the prayer-meeting - . As we were passing out you came and spoke to a gentleman directly behind me, and asked him if he was zeim , home happy that night. I thought if 7 dia not hurry on you would speak to m e mo. When about half way to the door, Dr. Fowl er met me and asked me to stay afew moments, I :canted to stay, but did not wish any One to know it; and so passed on home with a heavy heart. The next night I went to church feelini: no better, and tarried at the inquiry-meetu m . As you passed me you requested me t., re main, as you wished to speak to me. j - waited until almost the last one, but (mly saw you a moment. The next day was the longest one I ever saw. I was perfectly wretched. I tried to pray, but was afraid I did not feel my sins enough to come to Jesu s . I went to - all the meetings, and stayed to the inquiry-meetings. Christians talked an d prayed with me, and tried to point me to Jesus, but still it was - all dark. Sometime s I was almost in despair and tempted to up seeking Jesus, but the thought was dread ful. I tried to pray, and give myself t o Jesus, but could get no gilief. I need not tell you how wretched L.k.lt all that week. Tuesday afternoon I attended the prayer meeting. One of my young companions had just found the Saviour, and was rejoicing, which made me feel still more rniserai!..-. went home almost in despair, and tried again to give myself to Jesus. I we, t to elmreh in the evening, feeling about the same. and tried to listen, when suddenly 1 saw the l;rina Jesus on the cross looking at me, awl I could almost hear Hint say that my sins :co., r;,:v given. It was too good to believe. The next day I felt better, and in the evening could not help singing those sweet hymns with the rest of the congregation, I was happy. Ido love the dear Jesus and hope ynu will pray for me, that I may love Him more and never wander from him, but work for the Saviour. Your happy young friend. To help you, my dear young friend, take along with you the most impor tant lesson which this letter contains, I have tried to express it in simple verses. Ala, may the Holy Spirit help you also to say, " When I saw the loving Jesus on the cross, I could almost hear him say that my sins were all for given." I SAW THE LOVING JESUS ON THE CROSS." Toss—Jesus loves me. Jesus on the cross I saw, Bleeding, dying all forme. I could almost hear him say, All thy sins are pardoned thee. I have seen Jesus, I have seen Jesus, I have seen Jesus, MY Saviour. n the cross. First my heart could scarce believe That my sins were all forgiven ; But assurance I've received, For I hope to sing in heaven. Now my soul is full of joy ; "I love Jesus, yes I do ;" Singing is my chief employ. "Jesus smiles and loves me too. FASHIONS. A younster and an old, salt were conversing in a, town in Devonshire. The boy was curious to know where -all the fashions came from. " Why," said Jack leisurely turning his quid, " from Portsmouth, to be sure"— "But where do the Portsmouth folks get them ?" " From Brighton, I s'pose." " And where do the Brighton folks get them ?"—" From London, I reck on." " Well, but where do the. Lon doners get them?" Jack was, by this time; getting a little uneasy under this steady fire of the youngster, but he managed to reply, "From Paris, of course." Even this did not satisfy the questioner, who immediately asked, "But where do - the Paris folks get them?" This was too much. Jack turned upon him, and giving his trou sers a hitch, exclaimed, "Why, straight fritSatan !" WANTING FRIENDS. "I wish that I had some good friends to help me on in life 1" cried lazy Den. nis, with a yawn. " Good friends, why you have ten !- replied his master. " I'm sure I hwen't half so many. and those that Ihave are too poor to help me." "Count your fingers, my boy," said Dennis Jooked down on - his big strong hands. "Count thumbs and. all," added the master "1 have—there are ten," said the lad. " Then, never say you have not ten good friends, able to help you on in life. Try what those true friends can do before you go grumbling and fret ting because you do not get help from others."—Sunday School Visitor. POWER OF A CHILD'S APPEAL. A few years since, a gentleman at tended an evening prayer-meeting, ac companied by his only child, a boy of five summers, whose mother had recently died. After prayer had been offered, the - boy said to his father. "-why don't you pray? Mother used to, when she was alive." This appeal. coming as it were directly from heaven. was too much, and the father .said in an audible voice, "I will, my angel boy. Your dear mother's prayers can no more reach my ear, but they have sunk deep is my heart, and God has made you the instrument to tune that heart to His praise." That night wit nessed the dedication of that father to the cause of Christ. A GEE FROM A PERSIAN POET.— The heavens are a print from the pen of God's perfection ; the world is a bua from the bower of his beauty; the sun is a spark from the light of his' wisdom, and the sky is a :bubble on the sea ° t his paTef.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers