61jt lant4 Cita
PANGS, LINGUA, GLORTOSI.
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF VENANTIUS
FORTUNATUS, SIXTH CENTURY.
Sing my tongue the Saviour's glory;
Tell His triumph far and wide;
Tell aloud the wondrous story
Of His body crucified,
How upon the cross a victim,
Vanquishing in death, he died.
Eating of the tree forbidden,
Man had fallen by Satan's snare,
When our pitying Creator
Did this second tree prepare,
Destined many ages later
That first evil to repair.
So when now at length the fulness
Of the time foretold drew nigh,
Then the Son, the World's Creator,
Left His Father's throne on high,
From a Virgin's womb appearing,
Clothed in our mortality.
Thus did Christ to perfect manhood
In our mortal flesh attain,
Then of His free choice He goeth
To a death of bitter pain ;
He, the Lamb upon the Altar
Of the Cross, for us is slain.
Lo ! with gall His thirst he quenches ;
See the thorns upon his brow I
Nails his hands and feet are rending,
See his side is open now!.
Whence to cleanse the whole creation,
Streams of blood and water flow.
When, 0 Judge of this world, coming
In thy glory all divine,
Thou shalt bid Thy Cross's trophy
Bright above the stars to shine,
Be the Light and the Salvation
Of the people that are thine !
Blessing, honor everlasting,
To the immortal Deity ;
To the Father, Son, and Spirit,
EqUal praises ever be;
Glory through the Earth and Heaven
To the blessed Trinity ! Amen.
VIOLET.
"I shall see in heaven, papa dear;
God will open my eyes there. Oh, I
cannot help longing to go, if it were
not for leaving you. I wish we could
go together, my own papa." And the
deep blue eyes were raised wistfully
to his face; then lifting one little hand,
she stroked his cheek caressingly.
She felt a tear there.
A troubled look came into the
sightless eyes. "Do not cry, darling
papa: think how much happier I shall
be; and we will watch over you,
mamma and I, as ministering spirits,
and perhaps God will call you soon;
then we will come and meet you.
Oh, how happy we shall be, united
again! And God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes; and there
shall be no more death, neither sor
row, nor crying ; neither shall there
be any more pain : for the former
things are passed away.' "
They were sitting by a window in
his study, the minister and his only
child, his little Violet. The balmy
air, redolent with the perfume of
Spring's sweetest flowers, floated in,
gently fanning their cheeks, while
merry birds caroled forth joyous little
songs. Near by, a gurgling brook,
prattled its silvery melody to the
thoughtful-looking cows, and frisking,
gamboling sheep, who often quenched
their thirst in its cool waters.
Long ago, the minister had brought
a fair young bride to this little parson
age and its beautiful surroundings.
For two years she helped him in
his noble work; sharing his troubles,
cheering his despondency ; always
pointing upwards to that bright home
above, which was to be the end of all
their labors.
Then consumption, with his cold,
cruel hand and icy breath, laid his
destroying touch upon her.
Still she kept on by his side, no
word of complaint escaping her lips.
She would not trouble him she said.
And so he was allowed to remain in
his ignorance; only to awaken sud
denly to the cruel shock which would
deprive him of what he held most
dear on earth, and leave his little dar
ling child motherless.
Gently and slowly the sweet young
life ebbed away ; till at last one Sab
bath evening, just as the bells were
ringing for divine service, the pure
spirit winged its flight to Him who
gave it;, borne upwards by bright
angels, chanting in low sweet strains :
"He giveth his beloved rest."
With, her sorrowing husband she
left as a legacy little Violet, who
already bore a great resemblance to
her sainted mother.
After the death of his wife, the
young pastor seemed bound up in his
little girl. It was an interesting sight
to see them together. Often would he
take her up to her mother's grave ;
and there, sitting on his knee, with
her large wondering eyes raised atten
tively to his face, she would listen to
beautiful Bible stories, of how Christ
came into the world to die for sinners,
how he suffered and bled, and then
returned to His Father's home to
prepare a place for all believers.
The little one loved to hear of her
Saviour, and would often say : "Tell
me more about Jesus, papa, and tell
me of my angel mamma."
. _
Too young to feel her loss, her
bright happy spirit cheered her father
in his loneliness. Her merry ringing
laugh, and light joyous step, were
heard through the house all day.
With her tiny fingers she plucked
away the thorns from his path, leaving
him only roses to tread upon. Every
evening at sunset might be heard her
little childish treble, joining his rich
manly tones in singing praise to the
great Creator.
When Violet was about seven years
old, she was attacked by scarlet fever.
For days the little life hung by a
single thread. With terrible anxiety
her father watched by her bedside,
noting each toss of the bright head,
longing fon one glance of recognition
in the restless eye ; and fervently
praying that his darling might be
spared to him. Often in the stillness
of the night would he send up suppli
cations to the throne of mercy.
At last the crisis came. Violet
ceased those restless tossings and in
coherent ravings, and fell into a deep
slumber ; so deep that it seemed akin
to death - . Either she would pass
away in that still, dreamless sleep, or
she would awaken to life.
Which it would be, only God knew.
Anxiously the doctor stood by her
bedside, feeling her pulse, gently
smoothing the golden curls from the
blue-veined temples, and watching the
fluttering breath as it came from be
tween the parted lips.
Through the night she slept on;
and when the bright morning sun
peeped in through the curtained win
dows, glancing lovingly across the
little sleeper, she awoke. 0, with what
joy did the young minister return
thanks to the Giver of all Good!
Pap e
He leaned over her.
darling?" '
" Where are you, papa ? It is so
dark I cannot see you."
'
Dark, with the sun shining so
brightly ? The truth, the sad truth
rushed with agonizing force to her
father's mind. His little daughter's
life was saved, but her sight was
gone ! No more would those soft
lustrous eyes recognize his loving
gaze ! no more would they behold the
beauties of nature, the smiling land
scaPe, and the little white lambs of
which she was so fond. How would she
bear the shock ? She was so very
weak. How could he tell her ?
The low tremulous voice spoke
again.
" Come nearer,
, _papa, let me see
you. Why is all so dark ?"
He meat tell her.
And he did. Gently and sooth
ingly he told her, with her head
resting on his shoulder, his arms
clasped protestingly around her, as if
to shield her from the consciousness
of her blindness.
Very bravely she received it, the
dear little child; and though the
bright hope she had cherished of
being a helper to her father was partly
shattered, still she felt it was God's
will; and so with her little hands
tightly clasped together, while big
tears rolled down her pale cheeks,
she said: " Oh, Lord, help me to
bear it, and make me patient, for
Christ's sake !"
Very slowly the sweet flower, that
had so nearly been transplanted to
paradise, returned to health.
Always delicate, now she looked
most fragile. The earnest thoughtful
eyes seemed gazing into futurity with
a look not of earth; the changing
cheek had lost much of its roundness,
and the dimples were rarely seen now
where once they played continuously.
The dancing step was slow now, for
with hands grouping in the midnight
darkness, each step must be taken
carefully. The merry voice had
changed its tone for one of plaintive
ness; and yet she was not unhappy.
Though the bright, beautiful world
was shut out from her view, she would
often imagine how it looked, and with
her sightless eyes turned upwards,
think of the time when they would be
opened, and she would see with clearer
She always sat on her father's knee
when he composed his sermons ; for
he seemed to gather inspration from
her lovely face upturned to his with
that rare, almost holy smile of hers.
Often he would take her round with
him when he made his calls on the
sick poor of the village. And soon
they learned to look for the gentle
voice and soft touch of the minister's
blind darling.
The little children, too, stopped
their noisy play, and crept around her,
listening with hushed breath and
wondering eyes to her tales of the
Saviour's matchless love.
It was a pretty sight to see this lit
tle disciple surrounded by those un
taught, uncultivated children ; to see
their devotion to her ; they would do
anything to please her.
Even the rough -rude boys of the
village school, with whom all lovers
of law and order were in despair,
were awed into gentleness ; and many
were the presents of flowers and fruits
that they carried up to the parsonage
for their fair young teacher.
The sick and aged people blessed
her with their withered hands laid lov
ingly on the bowed head ; and asked
her to pray for and with them, which
she did simply and trustfully. Who
can say that those pure and innocent
supplications were not heard at the
throne of grace.
And so four years passed away;
each year increasing the love that they
bore for the tiny floweret, that seemed
all too fragile for earth's rough winds
and cruel storms. Every day she
visite..l the parish, carrying little
delicacies to the sick; singing sweet
hymns with her melodious voice, and
dropping comforting words as a balm
to their wounded hearts. And so this
little lamb of Jesus' fold went on her
heavenly way ; leading many and
leaving behind her a beautiful example
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 1865.
'and fragrant memory. Her reward
was not far distant.
One afternoon, returning late from
her self-appointed duties, they were
caught in a sudden shower. A violent
cold ensued, which resulted in a rapid
decline.
_ She knew she was dying, and she
looked forward with happiness to her
removal to that spirit land where all
is peace,' and. joy, and love.. All that
troubled her was her father, she knew
how lonely he would be, how he
would miss her, and she wished they
were going together ; but no, there
was more work for him to do below.
kiod would call him in his own good
time.
They often had long talks together,
the young pastor and his, dying child;
talks that did them both good.
" You must not cry for me, dear
papa, when I am gone," she would
say, "it is only for a little while that
we shall be parted ; soon you will
come too, and then how much happier
we shall be than we ever were on
earth!"
Camly and peacefully the sun went
down on that pure young life ' • fitfully
the flame flickered, glancing brightly
for a time, and then burning so dimly
that it seemed almost gone.
She had no acute pain; it was the
dreadful weakness and lassitUde which
she found se hard to bear; but not a
word of complaint escaped her lips ;
she floated down life's stream, with
hands clasped and eyes looking up
wards, piercing the veil that hung
before them; gazing far beyond to
that beautiful world which she was
soon to enter.
"What, my
When she was strong enough, her
little class of children went to the par
sonage, and then she continued her
lessons of love. They never forgot
them; all through their after lives
they looked back to those gentle teach
ings, and with reverent lips blessed
that angelic child as the means of
their salvation.
It was touchirig—the leave-takings
between Violet and the village chil
dren. She gave an appropriate text
to each, and begged them to meet her
in heaven. She asked then] to join in
singing
"There is a happy land, far, far away."
Some were too much overcome to
trust their voices, but most of i them
with a mighty effort mastered their
emotion, and tremblingly sweet strains
arose, gathering power as they con
tinued. Then Violet's own voice;
though very weak, mingled with
theirs ; and at last they all sang, with
tearful eyes and aching hearts, paying
their last obedience to the dying one.
She felt their tears upon her cheek
as they leaned over her Tor a last kiss.
It seemed to trouble her. "Do not
cry," she said, "I am goillg to be very
happy: only meet me there."
Then her powers of endurance
seemed almost exhausted; her eyes
closed wearily, and she lay for some
time motionless; they thought she was
gone.
Once more the blue eyes opened,
, she raised herself up, with one hand
pointing towards heaven a glorious
smile shone with celestial brightness
on her face, only for a moment: the
little form fell back upon the pillow.
Little Violet could see.—N. Y.
Observer.
AN ENGLISH NOBLEMAN ON TEMPER
A temperance meeting was lately
held at Surrey Chapel, London. After
addresses by the Rev. Newman Hall
and Mr. Murphy, and narratives by
three working men of the misery into
which drink had brought them, and
of their present health, prosperity,
comfort, and religious hopes, through
total abs'tinence, the Earl of Shaftes
bury, the chairman, said that he felt the
greatest respect for the good men who
had so candidly referred to their own
history both as a warning and an en
couragement. He was happy to know,
from a paper recently laid before the
House of Commons, that the amount
of drinking did not keep pace with
the increase of the population, but
was considerably under the proportion
of twenty years ago. The temperance
reformers might not have succeeded
as much as they desired, but they
might be assured the blessing of God
rested on these and all other efforts to
produce a sober, decent, and religious
people. He had been struck with the
statement of the gentleman who had
just spoken, and who was announced
as an ostler, who said he had secured
£3O for his wife, in case of his death,
and intended to make it £6O. All he
could say was, that in case he (Lord
Shaftesbury) should become a widower,
and that lady was a widow, he should
know where to look for a comfortable
provision ! (Loud cheers.) His Lord
ship went on to urge self-help. There
was nothing equal to the dignity of a
sober, happy, religious fireside. A
man might be a king at home, wielding
absolute power in the spirit of gentle
ness. He might be a priest in his
own family, offering prayer to God.
Whet grandeur there was in a man,
with nothing in store, pressed by
danger, difficulty, and want, trusting
in Providence, while diligently using
proper means. Nothing was so much
to be desired for the country as the
sobriety and godliness of the people ;
for it gave stability to the nation,
added citizens to the Queen, and made
the empire secure within and without.
ANCE.
PUNCH'S PECCAVI.
The following self-reproach and manly re
traction of the Londod .Puncla has for some
weeks met our eyes in one and another of our
exchanges; but having so long lain upon our
files, we might now 'have dropped it entirely
but for the request which our London corres
pondent, in last week's paper, makes for its
appearance.
_ ABILMAII LINCOLN.
FOULLY ASSASSINATED, APRIL 14, 1865.
You lay a wreath on murdered Lincoln's bier,
You who with mocking pencil wont to trace,
Broad for the selt-complacent British sneer,
His length of shambling limb, his furrowed
face.
His gaunt, gnarled bands, his unkempt, brist
ling hair,
His garb uncouth, his bearing ill at ease,
His lack of all we prize as debonair,
Of power or will to shine, of art to please.
You whose smart pen backed up the pencil's
laugh, '
Judging each step, as though the way were
plain :
Reckless, so it could point its paragraph,
Of chief's perplexity, or people's pam.
Beside this corpse, that bears for winding-sheet
The Stars and Stripes he lived to rear anew,
Between the mourners at his head told feet,
Say, scurril-jester, is there room for you R
Yes, he had lived to shame me from my sneer,
To ; lame my pencil, and confute my pen—
To make me own this hind of princess peer,
This rail-splitter a true-born king of men.
My shallow judgment Thad learned to rue,
Noting how to occasion's height he rose,
How his quaint wit made home-truth seem more
, true,
How, iron -like, his temper grew by blows.
How humble yet how hopeful he could be :
How in good fortune and in ill the same:
Nor bitter in, success, nor boastful he,
Thirsty for gold, nor feverish for fame.
He went about his work—such work as few
Ever had laid on head and heart and hand—
As one who knows, where there's a task to do,
Man's honest will must Heaven's good grace
command ;
Who trusts the strength will with the burden
grow,
That God makes instruments to work his will,
If but that will we can arrive to know,
NOr temper with the weights ofogood or ill.
So he went forth to battle,on the side
That he felt clear was Liberty's and Right's,
As in his peasant boyhood he had plied
His warfare with rude Nature's thwarting
mights—
The,uncleared forest, the unbroken soil,
The iron -bark, that turns the lurnberer's axe,
The rapid that o'erbears the boatman's toil,
The prairie, hiding the mazed wanderer's
tracks,
The ambushed Indian, and the prowling bear—
Such were the needs that helped his youth to
train :
Rough culture—but such trees large fruit may
bear,
If but their stocks be of right girth and grain.
If he grew, up, a destined work to do,
And lived, to do it : four long-suffering years'
El-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report lived through,
And then he heard the hisses change to cheers,
The taunts to tribute i the abuse to praise,
And took both with the same unwavering
mood : -
Till, as he came to light, from darkling days,
And seemed - to touch the goal from where he
stood,
A. felon hand, between the goal and him,
Reached from behind his back, a trigger
prest,—
And those perplexed and p . atient eyes were dim,
Those gaunt, long-laboring limbs were laid to
rest!
The words of mercy were upon his lips,
Forgiveness in his heart and on his pen,
when this vile murderer brought swift eclipse
To thoughts of peace on earth, good-will to
men.
The Old World and the New, from sea to sea,
Utter one voice of sympathy and shame I
Sore heart, so, stopped when it at last beat high
Sad life, cut short just as its triumph came.
A deed accurst 1 Strokes have been struck be
fore
By the assassin's hand, whereof men doubt
If more of horror or disgrace they bore ;
But thy foul crime, like Cain's, stands darkly
out.
Vile band, that brandest murder on a strife,
Whate'er its grounds, stoutly and nobly
striven ;
And with the martyr's crown, crownest a life
With much to praise, little to be forgiven!
THE EVENING LESSON.
" Brush up the stove hearth, Jenny,"
said. Mrs. Goodwin, and wipe up the
zinc nicely. Take all those clean
clothes, wet and dry, and lay them in
the, basket, and make the room look
as cheerful as you can, before father
and the boys get home."
" Well, mother," said Jenny, a little
discontentedly, "I don't know that it
is any worse for them to have a little
discomfort once in a while in doors,
than it is for us to have so much trou
ble all the time. They have no idea
how hard. it is to get up clean clothes
for them every week, nor how much
discomfort we have to put up with."
"Neither do we know how hard it
is to work all day in the fields to get
food for us all at home. But you are
tired to-night, my dear, and you never
can feel very happy with your hair in
such disorder. Run right away and
bathe your face, and brush up a little,
and you will find your spirits wonder
fully enlivened."
Jenny went away with a reluctant 1.
step, to do as she was bid ; but after a
while she came down again, looking
fifty per cent., at least, better . than she
did before. Her hair was brushed
back smoothly from her rosy sun
kissed cheeks, and her plain calico
dress and gingham apron looked better
than many an elegant ball-room cos
tume. She did not need to be told.
now to make the room as tidy as pos
sible i she stepped about lightly here
and there, putting to rights one little
nook and another—drew father's arm
chair up to the sun-set window where
he loved best to sit; and saw that the
lounge was cleared of all incumbran
ces, so that Ned might throw himself
down and rest after his favorite fashion.
" I knew that it would rest you, if
you put yourself in better trim," said
mother, " even though you were tired.
I need not ask you if you do not feel
better ; your looks tell very plainly.
It always pays to be neat and orderly.
It is worth more than a great sum of
money to have home the pleasatitest
spot in the world to fathers and bro
thers. It never would be, if we adopted
Mrs. Halsey's plan."
" No, indeed, mother, I cannot even
bear to go there on an errand. Ido
not see how her family can endure to
live in a home so constantly 'in the
suds.' She never dresses up herself
unless she goes to a funeral; and her
children are little frights, with thin
outgrown soiled dresses on, half the
summer: I used to pity them when
they went to school."
"Well, Jenny, every time we per
mit an untidy room that could be put
to rights as well as left, or allow sup
per-time to find us with a soiled work
dress on, when we might put on a clean
one, we take a step in that direction.
Untidy people do not become so all at
once ; but bad habits grow faster than
cucumbers. You cannot hold them
in check, unless you fairly root them
out. All the little delicacies and re
finements of life that we cultivate are
good for the heart as well as the body.
They make us more gentle and thought
ful of the comfort of others, and help
us form nobler and more beautiful
characters, and that is our great life
work here, my daughter—the forma
tion of right characters. Nothing is tri
fling which bears upon. this great work."
THERE is much sweet and efficacious
intercourse between Christ and his
people in little time. Mary was ad
dressed and wept., Jesus said " Mary,"
and Mary said " Rabboni," and all was
well.— Goodwin.
ftry tt . t Pah frak
FA.MILIAR TALKS - WITH THE CHIL
OREN. XI.
BY REV. EDWARD PAYSON HAMMOND
Freddie says, "I PRAY THAT I CAN
FLND JESUS."
This little fellow, only ten. years old,
you see is anxious to find the dear
Saviour. He does not use good gram
mar, but no matter ; we know what
he means. He sees other little boys
coming to the dear Jesus. Havn't
you, my little friends, often felt just
as little Freddie does, and wished some
one would pray for you, and tell you
how to find Jesus? Well, I will pray
for you, and will try and help you to
find the dear, precious Jesus. Can
you, like this little Freddie, say : " I
pray for myself?" If not, do not
sleep till you, ask God to help you to
find Jesus ; ask- Him to show you how
He died on the cross for you, and how
He can now pardon you for Jesus'
sake. He will do it for you. You
see little. Freddie knows that he is not
a Christian. Yes, little children can
tell whether they are Christians or not.
Are you a Christian ? Do you love
Jesus ?
Freddie's letter is very short, but it
means a great deal. If you could only
see his hand-writing, you would know
how much work it was for him to
write. It looks as if it was the first
letter he ever wrote. He says :
I have not found Jesus, yet so I have not
got hold of the first link of the golden chain;
but lam trying to get it. I ask you to pray
for me while 1 pray for myself too, that I
can find Jesus. A friend of mine thinks he
has found Jesus, and I wish that I could
think the same.
Your little friend,
FREDDIE, aged ten years.
If you, my little friend, feel as
Freddie did when he wrote his letter,
then here is another from a Sabbath
school scholar, which may help you
more than any words of mine. A
hundred years ago, after George
Whitefield had been preaching to
thousands in the open-air at Moore
fields, near London,
he went to his
great church with hundreds of letters
in his pockets, and spent the evening
in reading them to a great congrega
tion. He knew that letters like the
one you will now read, have been very
useful to help those who were seeking
Jesus to see the way to be saved.
I hope you,
too, will find the truth
of these words :
"IT IS VERY EASY TO COME TO JESUS,
IF WE ASK HIM TO HELP US."
I think that I can tell you how I feel. It
is better to tell you in this way, because you
always seem to be busy trying to lead the
others to the Saviour in the meetings. I
thank the Lord every day for these good
meetings, and I am happy to say that I think
I found the dear Saviour, who died and shed
his precious blood for poor and needy sinners
as we are. Oh, why should we not come to
Jesus just now? He is waiting to receive us.
It is very easy to come to Jesus ' if we only
ask him to help us, 'for we can do nothing
without his help. The first time I saw you
was in our morning Sabbath-school. You
spoke to me about the dear Saviour. You
asked me if I found Jesus. I could not keep
from crying to, think how wicked I was.
After Sabbath-school we went to church,
and during the church time I felt like crying
all the time. When we came home, I felt scr
bad to think what a wicked sinner I was. My
mother asked me what was the matter. I
could not tell her at that moment. I havea
very kind and pious mother. She said she
prayed many a time for me, and she said she
had faith in the Lord, and she believed
that there would be a time coming that her
prayers would be answered. And now I feel
so happy that I got hold of the first link of
the golden chain, and I will cling to it, with
God's help, until I reach the last link.
" I CAN' SAYNOW THAT I LOVE JESUS."
That's a great thing to say. The
moment one can say that their names
are written in God's book of life.
Have you felt your need of JesUs?
You do need Him, and you will never
be happy without Him. His precious
blood alone can wash away your black
sins.
This letter is badly written and full
of mistakes—but no matter ; it makes
me happy to read it. I think I can
remember when I couldn't write much
better.
" When i first came to the meetings i did
not have any interest in them. So i thought
i would come again, and i stayed to the en
quiry meetings. i shall Never forget that
night i felt very Anxious About my soul.
Then all my sins came up before me. i felt
that i was a great Sinner in not loving Jesus.
i came one night, and i stayed to enquiry
Meetings, and Mr. Hawley came and Spoke
and prayed with mee, and i thought i could
not go out of the Church without i had gave
my heart to Jesus, and i did and i think he gave
mee a new Heart. i can say now, that i love
Jesus, which i could not Before. i love to
read my bible now. the Good work still goes
on, and it increases every day. iam glad
that there's so many young Men coming to
Christ. i dont want to run away from Chris
tians now. iam Afraid that i dont love Him
enough. Hee is such A good Saviour to
Come to this world, to die for us. i hope all
the Children will come to Jesus Just now. i
love Jesus! yes i do. ido love Jesus. he,
my Saviour Jesus, smiles and loves me to. i' ve
cast my . deadly doing down ; down at Jesus'
Feet. stand in him. in him alone, Glori
ous and„Complete. i would not give Aimup
For the whole world. Pray for mee.
ONE WHO LOVES Jesus."
" WHEN I HEARD YOU TELL OF THE
LOVE OF JESUS, I COULD NOT STAND IT
ANY LONGER."
Little Laura, who wrote these words,
was only eleven years old,.and yet she
says, "I have been under serious impres
sions a long
Some older people think that chil
dren of this age cannot understand
much about religion ; but I know they
do. .Haven't you, my little friend, of
ten wished you were a Christian., and
longed to go to heaven when you die ?
Haven't you sometimes wished you
knew more about Jesus, so that you
might learn to - love Him, and be His
happy little child ?
I once got lost on the top of the
Cattskill Mountains. It was getting
dark, and I was much alarmed lest I
should not find the right path, but lit
tle Charlie Beach, only eight years old,
was with me, and he took hold of my
hand saying, I know the way ' • I will
lead you "straight down to father's
house," and so he did. He had been
all over the mountain a great many
times, but I had never been there be
fore, and so I felt it was safe to trust
him ; and soon we got where we could
see the burning lights in the hall win.:
dows of the hotel. ll oh, how glad we
were to hear the joyous music in the
parlors.
I should think from the reading of
this letter, that this little pilgrim of
eleven years had started in the way to
heaven. Try and follow her. If she
has told of Jesus' hand she will get
by and by where she will hear them
singing in heaven—"Worthr, worthy
is the Lamb that was slain." She says,
I gave myself up to Jesus." That
was right ; for Jesus says, "I AM THE
WAY." And if you, my anxious little
friend, lost as you are on the dark
mountains of sin ; will only give your
self "right up to Jesus," he will take
hold of your little hand, and you will
find HIM "THE CHILD'S GITIDE TO
HEAVEN."
" I have been under serious impressions
for some time. I have now given my heart
to the Saviour. The way I gave my heart to
the Saviour was this: I went to your meet
ings and then I gave my heart to the Saviour.
When I heard you tell of the love of Jesus,
Leonld not stand it any longer, so I gave my
self up to Jesus. I prayed this morning that
he would take me just as I was. I can now
sing with all my heart, I love Jesus, yes I do.
I feel a great deal happier now. My age is
eleven years. lam very sorry you are going
away. I shall never forget you. I hope you
wont forget me. Pray for your little friend.
From your little friend, Louisa."
CLOSER LOOKING.
0A walnut-tree stands before my win
dow, sturdy and solid, clothed in its
summer garb of green, from crown to
lowest branches. I look at it, and see
a symmetrical tree, with summer wealth
of vitality and g9ce—a tree through
which the wind sweeps, and the sun
light plays, from early dawn till twi
light. But I look closer, and lo ! the
tree is full of life ; for here on the low
est branch, a bird looks out upon me
with bright, confident eyes ; and there
one nestles deeper in among the boughs;
and above, one swings upon a tuft of
leaves. The tree is full of them—feath
ered bundles of bird-life. l?arly in the
morning, they sing from the topmost
boughs, where winds rock them in time
to their tunes. The tree-top is their
orchestra—its centre is their sanctuary.
At night, again, they go up and sit
and sing through the twilight, chant
ing the day out. But through the day,
when the summer heat is beating down,
you would not believe that tree was
tenanted, except for the soft, low-chirp
ing, and. gentle, joyous twitter, and oc
casional flitting in and out.
So.we look upon certain people, see
ing but the exterior and the outline 03
the character. But how often does a
closer look, and an ear attent, reveal a
rich inner life—an under current al
patience and faith ! Under the steady
blaze of noon we see no sign, we hear ,
no song; but let the morning light oi
God's countenance rest upon them, or
let the shadows of some dark affliction
creep over them, and from the mount
of faith and trust goes up the calm,
sweetmelody of song.
IT has been well suggested that peo
ple's excuses for neglecting duty, are
not generally *their reasons for such
neglect. The excuse is very commonly
the method of concealing the true
reason.