v ' l family; ®irclf. 1 l flbr ! .“ I'l u Of (be: THE THREE SONS, W t. Ey Br REV - J - maultrie. a gori) a gOD) a t, o y j ns t five years l sy i old, tt t|i eyes of thoughtful earnestness, and mind _ jt of gentle mould. "*jjß:y tell me that unusual grace in all his ways f appears; ?_hat my child is grave andwiseof heart beyond his childish years. I cannot say how this may be, I know his face is fair, And yet his sweetest c.omeliness is his sweet and serious air; I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me, But loveth yet his mother more, with grateful fervency; But that which others most admire, is the the thought which fills his mind, The food for grave enquiring speech he every where doth find. Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk; He scarcely thinks as children think, or talks as children talk. Nor cares he much for childish sports, doats not on bat or ball, But looks on manhood’s ways and works, and aptly mimics all. His little heart is busy still, and oftentimes per plexed With thoughts about this world of ours, and thoughts'about the next. He kneels at his dear mother’s knee, she teaches him to pray, And strange and sweet and solemn then, are the words which he will say. 0, should my gentle child be spared to man hood’s years, like me, A holier and a wiser man I trust that he will be ; And when I look into his eyes, and stroke his thoughtful brow, I dare not think what I should feel, were I to lose him now. I have a son, a second son, a simple child of three; I’ll not declare how bright and fair his little features be, How silver sweet those tones of his when he prattles on my knee: I do not think his light blue eye is like his brother's keen, Nor his brow so full of childish thought as his has ever been; But his little heart’s a fountain pure of kind and tender feeling, And his every look's a gleam oflight, rich depths of love revealing. When he walks with me, the country folk, who pass ns in the Btreet, Will Bhout for joy, and bless my boy, he looks so-mild and sweet. A play fellow is he to all, and yet with cheerful tone Will sing his little song of love, when left to sport alone. His presence is like sunshine sent, to gladden home and hearth, To comfort ns in all our griefs, and sweeten all our mirth. Should he grow up to riper years, God grant his heart may prove As sweet a home for heavenly grace, as now for earthly love; And if beside his grave, the tears our aching eyes must dim, God comfort ns for all the love that we shall lose in him. I have a son, a third sweet son, his agelcannot tell, For they reckon not by years and months where he is gone to dwell. To us, for fourteen anxious months, his infant smiles were given, , And then he bade farewell to earth, and went to live in heaven. I cannot tell what form his is, what looks he wearethnow, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shin ing seraph brow; The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, the bliss which he doth feel, Are numbered with the secret things which God will not reveal. utl know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest, * Where other blessed infants be, on their Sa viour's loving breast; I know his spirit feels no more this weary load offleßn, But his sleep is blessed with endless dreams of joy forever fresh. I know the angels fold him close beneath their glittering wings, And soothe him with a song that breathes of heaven’s divinest things. I know that we shall meet our babe, (his mother dear and I,) Where God for aye shall wipe away all tears from every eyet Whate’er befalls his brethren twain, his bliss can never cease, Their lot may here be grief and fear, but his is certain peace. It may be that the tempter’s wiles their souls from bliss may sever, But, if our own poor faith fail not, he must be ours forever. When we think of what our darling is, and what we still must be; When we. muse on that world’s perfect bliss, and this world’s misery; When we groan beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief and pain, 01 we'd rather lose our other two than have him here again, THE GOLDEN ROLE. It was a chilly, foggy evening in autumn. Edith sat by the window, looking out into the gray gloom, in a state ol‘ mind something like that of the weather, disconsolate and depress ed, she could not tell why. She was not alone in the room; her father was there, and a group of brothers and sisters. " No one takes any notice of me, or cares if I feel sad,” she thought. "Now, when one feels gloomy, it is so pleasant to have somebody come and cheer one up.” Conscience whispered, " Do you know what is the matter with you? You are a little tired, and idle, and cross.” She did not, listen much to -the voice. Suddenly there darted into her mind the words which'she had taught little Lulu that morning. “ As ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” She did not care to listen to these words either; but they would not be dismissed; they seemed to say themselves over and over again in her memory, more times than little Lulu had repeated them in her anxiety to say them correctly at school, till at last she began to see what they meant. " I wonder,” she said to herself, “ if I really must do for somebody else everything that I want somebody_else to do for me.” She turned from the window, and went and stood by her father’s chair. “ Father,” she said, "you mus’t have had a wet and disa greeable walk home. Don’t J'ou want your slippers?” "Why, yes, I be THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY. FEBRUARY l. 1866. lieve I do. I was too tired to think much about it, though. Thank you, dear. It is pleasant to get home.” The mother just then brought in a lamp. “It was such a gloomy even ing, I thought I would light up early,” she. said, drawing the curtains. Edith looked round on the group. Susie was lying on the sofa, with hot, flushed cheeks. “Poor little girl,” said Edith, kneeling down beside her, “ you have one of those troublesome headaches, I know. I have something good for you; the nice cologne in the red bottle Aunt Julia gave me.” And in a minute she was bathing the hot forehead with it. Meanwhile she noticed the cloud on her brother Russell’s'face, as he pored over his school-books. “What’s the matter, Russ?" she said, looking over his shoulder. “ Matter enough,” he answered. “ See here! I have eight sums to do, and I cannot get the first one, and I don’t know how many hours I’ve .wasted - on it.” Not many, Edith suspected, but she did not say so. At any rate, he wast ed no more, for a few words of explan ation gave him the clue to the solution of all his difficulties. “ I say, Edie,” said Max, seeing that she looked propitious, “get me some string, will yon ? and the bottle of glue ?” “0, you inventor!” she said, bring ing them. “What are you making now ?” “ You’ll see, when it’s done,” was his only answer. Lulu’s ever-happy face was full of smiles, as usual; this time at her doll, preparing for bed. Edith laid a caress ing hand on the fair curls as she asked, “ Where’s 'Eanny, little pet?" “ Up stairs,” said Lulu, “ please tie Bessie’s night gown.” As “ Bessie ” %ras laid to repose, with her staring blue eyes wide open in her cradle, Edith went up-stairs to find Fanny, wondering what could keep her there alone in the cold. Fanny was next to herself in age, and shared her room. She was sitting in a little arm-chair in the growing darkness. “ I missed you, dear," said ISdith, “ and came to find you. 1 ’ There was no answer, and Edith sat doyn on the arm of the chair, and asked, “Are you sick ?” “No, no!” cried Fanny, bursting into a flood of tears on Edith’s shoulder, “but I want to -be a Christian, Edie, and I cannot do anything till I know that Christ has forgiven all my sins." Edith was startledshe had not thought of this. “ I am so glad, dar ling,” sffie whispered. The bell rang for tea. “Go,” said Fanny, “ I am not going down, I can not.” Edith lingered, reluctant to leave her, but yet she did not know how. to lead her as she would be led. She sent her mother to her as soon as tea was over, staying in the nursery herself to put little Lulu to bed. A happy family rejoiced that night with one who was beginning to know the joy of salvation, having'found Him who taketh away the sins of the world. ' Edith pondered upon her new appli cation of the golden rule. “ How sel fish I was,” she thought, “to sit there moping because no one came to cheer me up, when, after all, I only needed to go and do my duty, and there was nothing to be gloomy about. Next time I think I want some sympathy, I’ll remember to go and sympathize withiall the rest." ' It was a good resolution, for she had been in considerable danger of becoming one of that numerous class of persons who demand and expect a great deal from others of notice, and consideration, and sympathy, but never seemed to remember that there is just as, much reason for them to give all these freely as to require them at the hands of others. And now, as I am closing, let me say a word j,o you my friend. I know your case well. I have heard it a hundred times. The. members of the Church have not treated you with the distinguished at tention which they should; they do not call upon you; the minister has not been to see you for a long time: you miss religious conversation; you feel slighted. Let me give you a word of advice. Call and see your minister this afternoon, not to find faqlt, but to cheer and encourage him who has many difficulties and discour agements in his labor, of' which you know nothing. Then call sociably on your fellow-members, and talk, not of gossip, but of the things of the kingdom of Christ; be friendly with your brethren, be a centre of warmth, and not a lump of- ice, which you wonder there is not heat enough to thaw. That is the demand of the law; that is the keeping of the Golden Rule. AN ARTLESS ARGUMENT. Naimbanha, a black prince, arrived in England, from the neighborhood of Sierra Leone, in 1791. The gentle man tot whose care he was entrusted took great pains to convince him that the Bible is the Word of God, and he received it as such with great rever ence and simplicity. When he was asked what it was that satisfied him on this subject, he replied: “When I found all good men minding the Bible, and calling it the Word of God, and all bad men disregarding it, I then was sure that the Bible must be what good men call it, the Word of God.” THE TWO GARDENS, A LETTER TO THE CHILDREN. My Dear Young Friends:— lf you will all come up here, I will show you two gardens just over the way. They are very interesting gardens— interesting because they convey such useful lessons. They are real gardens; hut I shall not tell you the real names of the owners, and you must guess what is meant by the names. Mr. Workwell Thrifty owns one of the gardens. It is a great pleasure to look in upon his garden. Every thing is growing so nicely, and withal in such perfect order. Not a weed is to be seen. On one side is a row of evergreens; on another, a row ot maples; on the other two sides are currant bushes. Within, all sorts of vegetables are growing in abundance, to supply the wants of Mr. Thrifty’s large family. Mr. Get-up-late Shiftless lives next door, and owns the other garden. It is just as good land as Mr. Thrifty’s garden is, but the weeds have choked down all the onipns, beans, carrots, squashes, potatoes, etc., and I am quite sure there are not enough of them to pay for the gathering. The fences, too, are all down. There are no nice trees about the garden, no currant bushes; and, altogether, the garden is a very unprofitable affair. Mr. Shiftless has complained a great* deal about the weather. It has been too hot, or too cold, or too dry. The cut-worms, he thinks, devoured con siderable of the stuff. But none of .his talk would do. People would not believe it. There was Mr. Thrifty’s garden on one side, and his on the other side. What could make the difference ? What do you think could make the difference, my dear.friends ? Ah! I guess you have got the right answer. It was laziness that made the garden so bad. We won’t call it by any other name; that is good enough. Mr. Shiftless did not enrich his land; did not stir well the soil; did not keep the weeds down. Mr. Thrifty did all these things, and succeeded. Often while Mr. Shiftless was snoring in bed in the late morning, or spending the precious hours with drunken compan ions at the tavern, Mr. Thrifty and the boys would be hoeing lustily at the weeds—cutting them all down. Now, dear children, you know what I' have told you this for. As I hinted once before, you will come at the meaning before I get at the explana tion. You know that your minds may be compared to. gardens, where weeds will grow and choke the good seed if they are not early cut down. If you early cut down the weeds that start to grow in the garden of your minds, the good seed will produce ripe, beautiful fruit. Have you any bad habits? Cut them down now; let them not have a place in the gafden. Is there a worm of sin gnawing into the fruit that you are trying to raise ? Kill it at once, and let no more of those pests come near. In short, endeavor by strjct watch ing and earnest prayer to cultivate good habits. You can not afford to be idle, for if you stop trying to. be good and do good, you will be very apt to engage in something mischiev ous. Keep down all the bad weeds, my little ones.— Bel. Telescope. ABOUT LILIES. A friend who has just gone far up into Vermont sends back word that the ponds all along the road are “ starred with lilies” forming a milky way the whole distance. The same white water lilies are the native queen of the New England summer, afloat in their pal aces of ivory and gold, and exacting homage from every passer. Barefoot boys along the road do not covet them with more intensity than the merchant princes in railway cars, whose over tasked thoughts are refreshed with the glimpse of their purity. They are to be found in the sequestered country places where water runs and debouches into ponds and ponds and shallows are made regal with their presence. It is nothing to see middle-aged men sud denly become enthusiasts in their quests, scaling stone walls, trampling through miry reaches of meadow, and wading knee-deep to pull them up by their leathery stems from the mud, with ash or alder poles cleft at the smaller end. They are very beautiful when coiled up in shallow glass dishes on the country parlor tables, but their true beauty is disclosed as they sit on the water with their white garments of royalty about them, opening their bright eyes with the morning sun and shutting up the gates to their golden hearts with the Siding day. There is no flower of summer, —no, nor of win ter either, —more simply elegant, di vinely fragrant, and regally superb, than a “great white water-lily.” It symbolizes whatever is pure and beau tiful in human life and character, — whatever is rich and golden in the hu man heart. The lotus of Eastern streams never could be the flower to us that the pond-lily of New England is, fring ing our inland ways of travel with its matchless floating stars, and leading the thoughts along the cool and plea sant recesses where the mornings are full of freshness and the nights come down in peace. —Boston Post. Consider how few things are wor thy of anger, and thou wilt wonder that any but fools should be wrathy. THE NATION’S DEAD. [read by rev. dr. march in his thanksgiving SERMON.] Four hundred thousand men, The brave —the good—the true, In tangled wood, in mountain glen, On battle plain, in prison pen, Lie dead for me and you ! Four hundred thousand of the brave Have made our ransomed soil their grave, For me and you! • Good friends, for me and yon ! In many a fevered swamp, By many a black bayou, In many a cold and frozen camp, The weary sentinel ceased his tramp, And died for me and yon! From Western plain to ocean tjde Are stretched the graves of those who died For me and you! Good friend, for me and you 1 , On many a bloody plain Their ready swords they drew, And poured their life-blood, like the rain, A home —a heritage to gain, To gaiu for me and you ! Our brothers mustered by our side, They marched, and fought, and bravely died, For me and you! . Good friends, for me and you ! Up many a fortress wall They charged—those boys in"blue— ’Mid surging smoke, and volley’d ball The bravest were the first to fall! i To fall for me and you! These noble men—the nation’s pride— Four hundred thousand men have died For me and yon! Good friend, for me and you f In treason’s prison-hold Their martyr spirits grew To stature like the saints of old, While amid agonies untold, They starved for me and you ! The good, the patient, and the tried, Four hundred thousand men have died, For me and you ! Good friend, for me and yon ! A debt we ne’er can pay To them is justly due, And to the nation’s latest day Our children’s children still shall say, “ x'hey died for me and vou!”' Four hundred thousand of the brave Made this, our ransomed soil, their grave, For me and you! Good friend, for me and you! [The Bound Table. TRADES CARRIED ON BY BIRDS, BEASTS. AND INSECTS. “ Please to tell me something to amuse me, uncle, will you?” “Well, if I am to talk to amuse you, it must be about something en tertaining. Suppose I tell you of the trades which are carried on by the lower creatures?” “ Trades! Why how can they carry on any trade ? Do you mean to say that beasts, and birds, and such like carry on trades ?” “ You shall hear. The fox is a dealer in poultry, and a wholesale dealer, too; as the farmers* and the farmers’ wives know to their cost.” “That is true, certainly.” “Not satisfied with chickens and ducklings, he must needs push on his sra.de among the full-grown cocks and lens; and many a good fat goose is conveyed to his storehouse in the woods. “‘A wily trader in his way Is Reynard, both by night and day.’ ” “And what other creature carries on a trade besides the fox ?’’ “ The otter and the heron are fish ermen, though they neither make use of a line nor a net. It is not very often that we catch sight of the otter, for he carries on his trade, for .the most part, under the water; but the heron is frequently seen standing with his long, thin legs in the shallow part of the river, suddenly plunging his lengthy bill below the’ surface, and bringing up a fish. You cannot deny that the heron and otter are fisher men.” "No, that I cannot; hut never should I have thought of it, if you had not told me.” “Ants are day-laborers, and are very industrious, too, in their calling; they always seem in earnest at their work. Catch them asleep in the daytime, if you can. They set us an example of industry. ‘“Ants freely work, without disguise : Their ways consider, and be wise.’ ” "Go on, uncle; I am not half so tired as I was.” “You seem all attention, certainly, Henry. The swallow is a fly-catcher ; and the number that he catches in a day would quite astonish you. Often have you seen him skimming along the surface of the brook and the pond.” “Yes, that I have; and swallows are as busy as ants, I think.” “The beaver is a wood-cutter, a builder, and a mason; and he is a good workman at all these trades. He cuts down the small trees with his teeth; and after he has built his house, he plasters it skilfully with his tail.” “Well done, beaver I He seems to outdo all the rest.” "The wasp is a paper-maker, and he makes his paper out of materials which no other paper-maker would use. If ever you should examine a wasp’s nest, you will find it all made of paper.” “ How many curious things there are in the world that I never thought of!” “Singing birds are musicians, and no other musicians can equal them in harmony. Hardly can we decide which has the advantage-—the lark, the black bird, the throstle, or the nightingale. “ ‘On feathery wing they freely rove, . And wake with harmony the grove.* ” “ I am afraid that you are coming to the end.” “0, never fear. The hre-fly and. the glow-worm are lamp-lighters. The fire-flies are plentilul in this country, and at night light up fne air, just as the glow-worms do the grassy and flowery banks in other countries.” “Yes; I have seen them. I shall not forget the lamp-lighters soon.” " The bee is a professor of geome try ; for he constructs his cells so scientifically, that the least possible amount of material is formed into the largest 'spaces with the least waste of room. Not all the-mathematicians of Cambridge could improve the con struction of his cells.” “ The bee is much more clever than I thought he was.” “ The caterpillar is a silk-spinner, and far before all other silk-spinners in creation. For the richest dresses that we see, we are indebted to the silk worm. With whaj; wonderful proper ties has it pleased our heavenly Father to endow the lower creatures!” “I shall be made wiser to-day, uncle, than I have ever been before.” “The mole is an engineer, and forms a tunnel quite as well as if he had been instructed by an/engineer. The nautilus is a navigator, hoisting and taking in his sails as he floats along the water, and casting anchor at his pleasure.” “I should never have believed that any one could have made things out so clearly.” “ Let me finish, then, by observing that the jackal is a hunter, the hawk an expert bird-catcher, the leech ah excellant surgeon, and the monkey the best rope dancer in the world.” ‘ Well dope, uncle! you have amused me, indeed. I could listen an -hour longer without being tired.” “ Whether you remember what I have told you or not, about God’s goodness to his lower creatures, you will do well not to forget his ’greater goodness to mankind, in his gift of reason, his gift of his holy word, and his gift of the Saviour, by whom alone a sinner can be saved. And now, as you are learning all you can as a scholar, let me advise you to set up at once the trade or calling of a school master, by teaching with humility and kindness those around you who may happen to know less than yourself. We all should be carrying on the calling of a schoolmaster, teaching others by precept and example,— “ ‘Without a rod or angry word, To love and glorify the Lord.’ ” [Religious Tract Society “I DID ,IT WELL.” . A noble saying is on record of a member of the British House of Com mons, who, by his own industry and perseverance, had won his way to that high position. A proud scion of the aristocracy one day taunted him with his humble origin, saying, “ I remember when you blacked my fa ther’s boots.” “Well, sir,” was the noble response, “ did I not do it well f ” - This is worth remembering. If you can only say of any. useful work, “I did it well,” it is to your credit; it is honor enough. Perhaps you re member the couplet that runs thus: “Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies.” fat tjre ititth falfo. FAMILIAR TALKS—2D SERIES. -IX. BY REV. EDWARD PAYSON HAMMOKD.* THREE HAPPY CHILDREN. Among a pile of letters on my table, from children and young converts, I have just found three, which I am going to. put together and let you read them. You can’t help but enjoy them. My heart has Been filled with gladness at the reading of them. I never tire of reading such letters. There is no sight in the world so beautiful to me as a company of chil dren who have truly given themselves up to the blessed Saviour, and who,, for His sake, have had new, singing, happy hearts given to them. I think there must have been a great many happy children on earth when Jesus was here in the flesh. I think there is but one place in the Bible where Jesus is said to have ‘‘re joiced;” that is in Luke x. 21: “In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit and said, I thank thee, 0 Father,‘Lord of heaven and earth, that thon hast hid these things from the wise and pru dent, and hast revealed them unto babes.” Jesus sepms to have rejoiced tH at very little children, as young as three years, could understand the way of salvation. Dr. H. C. Fish, of Newark, was greatly struck in hearing the children in Rochester all over the'city singing “I love Jesus,” and such little hymns of praise. The reason was, hundreds there had just found Jesus and were happy. I wonder if the children of Jerusa lem did not sometimes go about the streets singing such hymns? When ‘‘the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God with a loud voice, saying Blessed is the King that com eth in the name of the Lord,” I think there must have been some children among the number. And that may have been the reason why the wicked Pharisees said to our Saviour, “Re buke thy disciples.” But I am glad e would not do it. He loved to see s ? happy, and so “He answered d said unto them, I tell you that if hese should hold their peace the very * Copyright secured. stones would cry out.” Also, while on this triumphal procession to Jeru salem, I think there must nave -been some little ones who “.took branches of palm trees and went forth to meet Him, crying Hosanna! Blessed is the King that cometh in the name of the Lord. ’ There are some people, now-a-days, a little like those Pharisees. They seem troubled when they hear little children with joyful hearts “ Sing the praise of Jesus' name." I, too, sometimes have been a little troubled when I have seen a number of children manifesting a great deal of joy in large children’s meetings; not but that I love to see them happy, but because I have feared that some good men who had just come in to the meeting to look on, might mistake such great joy for levity. We are commanded to “rejoice in the Lord always,” but we should take care to avoid “the appearance” of trifling lightness. I wonder if my little reader knows what it is to be happy in the love of Jesus? Estelle, who ■ lives on the shores of Lake Michigan, whose letter you will now read, says: “I NEVER KNEW WHAT HAPPINESS WAS TILL I FOUND JESUS.” lam so very happy. I have found Jesus and learned to trust in Him. I used to think I was happy, but I have found that I never knew what happiness was, until I found Jesus as my friend. I have attended most all of your meetings, and at first was not very much interested in what was said. I stayed to the inquiry-meetings, and some one would come and talk and pray with me, and I would feel sorry at the time; but when they would leave me I would try and forget what they had said, and go on as before. But the time came when I saw and felt how very sinful I had been, and that I must be come a Christian. It makes me shudder to think how I had rejected that blessed Jesus who died for me. It was three weeks ago that I went to the meeting, and a gentleman came and talked with me, and I felt I must give up, I must love Jesus. I tried to pray, and very soon I seemed to see light, and I felt so happy , and so different from what I did when I first came into the room. I went home very happy, and that night told my mother, and sAc was very happy. She told me I had taken a step which I would never regret, and which would make me happy all my life. Sometimes I felt perhaps I have not found Jesus, after all, perhaps 1 was only indulging a false hope. One day a gentleman speaking in the meeting said, among his re marks to young converts, “ Satan will tempt you ofttimes, and tell you that you are not a Christian—you are only deceiving yourself. And,” said he, “if you are not careful , you will believe him, and not look to Jesus.” Ah ! thought I, that is just what /have been doing. I have been listening to the voice of Satan. I fully resolved to trust in Jesus from that time , and I have been happy ever since. Yesterday it seemed to me I.must tell everybody about Jesus. For the last week I had been praying for' my brother,, who did not love Jesus, and last night I asked you to pray for him, and was going across the church, when I met a lady friend, who said to me, ‘‘Do you know anything about your brother?” Yes, said I; there he is sitting. “Well, but,” said she, “don’t you know the good news about him?” I asked what it was. And she says, “He thinks he has found Jesus, and he is henceforth determined to be a Christian.” 0, those wards! how happy they made me. I felt that surely I should trust, for Jesus had answered my prayers and made me happy. I ask your prayers, that I may continue to be happy and love Jesus more and more. Pray for my brother also. From your loving friend, In that city where Dr. Fish heard so many, as he walked the streets, singing “Happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away,” lives this little pilgrim Alice, who says: “I FEEL VERY HAPPY.” I have been to most all your meetings. At first I did not feel much interest in them; but finally, after you had been talking about the love of Jesus to sinners, and asked those who thought they had found the dear Jesus to raise their hands, I was not one of them. This, was on the 14th of April. When the inquiry-meeting began, a young Christian began to tell me about the love of Jesus. I saw what a great sinner I had been in reject ing the dear Jesus sO long. And after she had talked to me awhile, she knelt down and prayed for me; and after she had prayed for me, I prayed for myself, and then it seemed as though I felt happier; and then when I got home I prayed to Him again. And now l think that He has given me a new heart, and now I can sing “I love Jesus, yes I do.” Now I love Christians, and I love the Bible, and I love to pray to the dear Jesus, and I love to sing about Him. Now 1 feel very happy and have done, since I have had a new heart, and I have loved to work for Him, and I hope that everybody will love Him. lam thirteen years old, but I must close. • Yours, truly, Alice. A little Jersey girl, of .twelve sum mers, writes: “I PEEL HAPPIER THAN I EVER DID BEFORE.” I think I have found the dear Jesus, and He is very precious to my soul. I think I feel happier than I ever did before. I love to pray more, and read my Bible more. I am very glad that I have a Friend, so when I am in trouble I can go and tell all to Him. I feel just, as if I would like to keep singing and praying all the time. From your little friend, twelve years old. Do you, my little friend, know what it is to be really happy ? Do you love to pray and to read your Bible ? If not, do not rest till you go and ask God to take away that naughty heart, that makes you so often unhappy and miserable. He will, do it for you for Jesus’ sake. Will you not, then, offer this PKAYER? Heavenly Father, show me, by thy Spirit, what an unhappy sinner I am. Show me how Jesus left his happy home, and led a life of sorrow, and suffered a dreadful death, that I might have my sins all forgiven, and be made happy here, happy when I die, and -happy through eternity. This I ask, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen. Ambition often plays the wrestler’s trick of raising, a man up merely to fling him down. Estelle.
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