Sljf faraihj ©ittlf.
THE BOOZ-ZEEPEE’S DREAM.
The day had wearily worn to its close.
And night had come down with its needed repose,
Asa Book-keeper wended his way from the store
Glad that his toilsome hours were o'er.
The night was cheerless, and dismal, and damp,
And the flickering flame of the dim street lamp
Went out in the rough, wild gust that heat
With furious speed through, the gloomy street.
Tired and cold, with pain -throbbing head,
He sank to repose in his lonely bed;
Still through his brain as the Book-keeper slept,
Visions of Debtor and Creditor crept.
The great Balance-sheet-lie had finished that day,
And Profit and! .Loss in the ;usualjway, ; , 1 j
Showed hSW ihuch money tlie Merchant' had made
Or lost on the preceding twelve month’s trade.
v A: l.p r eo.' 1:> ■'"!.«;> -rAu'l
And he dreamed that night that an Angel came
With the Ledger of Life—and Against his name
Were charges until there was no room to spare, 1 :
And nothing whatever was credited there!- ,
There were life and its bleßsings, and intellect, health;
There ,weiy charges of time, opnortunities, yyealth;
Of talents for go r od; of-frteiidStiipe ‘the htesir;- ,;£ • >
Of nourishment, joys, of affection and rest.,, , ,
And hundreds of others, and each one as great,
All with interest accrued from time of their date}
Till despairing of e’er being able to pay,
The' , Book-keeper-shr.!mk jjtngel r j -
-Rut the angel declared thO 'acconnt must be paid,
And protested it could nofc be longer,delayevl, ~ „
The Book-keeper sighed, and began to (jl dej>lore
Mow meagre the treasiife h'i’d laiduil in store} '
. - : , . i-.,- ,-W ■ ’> if ...
He’d cheerfully render all lie had acquired ; i
And his note on demand for thp required.
Then quickly the angel tpqk paper and wrote
The follb wing as aii acceptable note:
“On demand, witho’&tgrai'ce.from the close of to-day,
For VkluVr&reWeif, l^rofesetoTtSjX’ ' *'*
To Him who-has kept- me,* and' everywhere
Has guarded my soul with care: u
■,- ; ■ ! ■ : * II i ; ' 1 : ’
“ Whose blessings outnumber the" drops of the ocean,
While livingl the sum of iny heart's bhst' devotion,
In witness whereof to be seen of all men,
I affix the great sealof the soul’s amcit.' 1 -
The Bqok-kqepSr added his name to the note.
While the angel across the great ledger-page wrote
These words, (wjiich.a’Crops on ibs, transverse ,bpre,)
“ SeUU3'>bi jfeW”j4and,,was!geeitfnp|mofe,jjjj|/ J .
* * .* . * * , »* .*• ~ * .
■ i u ,w : ! ,«■ ;* v i) hujn6 o j. aOl
When the night, had rolled back .and its.shaaows were
gone," ‘ i ' mi i
And a roseate morninghadblWhed into dawn,
On the swift wings; of faith, rbgei tlie incense of prayer
From the altar God’s angel had sanctified there.
X. ’ ' ’ . ,11 ,o fWirSi Bbdt.
THE DIAMOND GROSS.
A yo-ung girl stood a!t a ! jeweler’s counter
examining with eager eyestge geme so en
ticingly arrayed. There were all manner of
precious stones, rare and dazzling, and pure
pale pearls, and ’ creamy scamqos:s mere
beautiful, and Agn6S'thrne& her
One tPranpthee. unable,to decide- .which, was
the mbit d4lirhble till suddeifly ‘a Isiairferiis
set with diamondsand twined with a delicate
vine, flashed its tetarry light dnto' her eyes.
“See, mother, see that beautifui, -beautiful
cross I" she. exclaimed. ‘VI, would rather
have that than hll the other jewels in’the
case.”. ,X,l!
“It is very bpautiful," said her mother,
“ but diamonds are far too grand for my
Agnes, and far too expensive for her father's
moans.”" /' '
“What is the price? ” she asked the clerk,
ted it. “ Five hundred dollars,” was the
answer. ' ! ;1 ' ' ' '
With one m.pre look at the coveted treas
ure, Agn ! eB'fh¥heH’ A ; w'ay^reielihg , llat it was
useless to hope ttf possess it; yet the thought
of it would not leave her and she went home
restless ahd'diisa'l.isfied. - ' '
That evening, soon after the lamps were
lifted, the dpor
servant brought- im package* %nu
with it a note addressed to'Aghes. Break
ing the seal, the’young girl found it to' be
from a much loved uncle, who stated that un
seen by her he had chanced to enter the yew
dry store at the time she was-so-eagerly ad
miring tl|e diamgnd<pross^and;to.?grati|jphim
self as well as his niece, nefftad *at once pur
chased it? fop her. j
words: t “If ever gift beeomes.indeed a i
cross, do not hesitate to dispose of it.’' Agnes |
could scarcely ,bslieve that it not all a j
dream, and her fingers trembled as she loos- t
ened the wrappings. 1 -*-*>3
“If evbr this.gift becomes indeed a cross,” !
she repeated, as she lifted it from its dainty ■
case. “ What cou|d mean ? ” and j
thenas thp diamonds threw pfit thej|c'|slen- '
der jets of light r |be,|brgot,a[i else in "won- !
dering admiration; ' 1 •; u
For many days the diamond cross was 'a
source of inuch delight. There was starcely a ;
louer’6£;gBmsffi who had not look- j
ed at it as itrsparkled on !
its
when they lb&riiedHhdt Agnes-’had become
its happy pdsse*tsdrj 4be^ J thrbngbd about i
her with wabfe lt was not ;
long, however,. before, there reached her j
many invidious remarks made by the very ;
friends who had seemed bo sincere-ifif'their j
admiration of Her'uncle’s dSsffy gJft.** One
said- that it was entirely unsuited to her i
style of face and-dress; another suggested !
that she probably knew that her wealthy i
relative was within hearing at the time 'she ;
expressed her, wish :for. the cross; and one 1
even hinted that after all, the. diamonds :
were nothing but paste. Agnes’ sensitive ,
heart was sorOiy wobnded, and afraid of ex
citing more remarks of a similar nature, she
soon ceased ,to wear the cross in public,
contenting herself with admiring it -in se-
cret,
Oqe morning s there, was. Aufte an exrnte
ment madb by th'eT’S'pbA tfeiin Burglars were
in the neighborhood,,and, |fi(eyeral large
robberies bail' Been cbmmitted fbe previous
night- On, inspection it was found that an
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1867.
attempt had been made to break through
one of the basement windows of Agnes'
home, but the iron bars had refused to yield.
Agnes’ first thought was of her treasure—
her cross. What if they had succeeded in
entering, and had robbing heir of that! And
the fear that something of the kind might
come to pass, so troubled her mind that she
could take no peace or rest when the cross
was not with her. Unwilling to 1 be Seen
wearing it, she fastened a ribbon to the*'case
that held it and during the day*feept*it con
cealed in her dress, while at night he.liid it
beneath her pillow. This constant solicitude
soon had its eflects npon her dreams. She
frequently fancied in her sleep that a hand
was thrust stealthily under her head to steal
her treasure, and would start tip crying “My
cross! my cross!”
Again Bhe would dream that her tiny
cross had grown to such huge proportions
that its weight was crushing her, and she
Wpqld waken trembling and exhau§tpd { 'iwi|;h‘
her frantic efforts to tear it’fsom-ier. Thus;
gradually, she was learning that the jewel
ed cross she had’sp’
a heavy cross- to bear, and witb ibis bitter
lesstm canie, thoughts of another cross,
higher and holier; and-she , rememsbered*that
.Oncvhad said: ‘/Take up,the, 4 fisoSM’M»fQllo.w
It was a winter of great-severity,sand in
allths.larger ftiti.es thftre > .w,aß i muft|i,,ggflsrvn'g
among tjie poor for lack of food and fuel.
The daily papers teemed, withi anemia ts' of
the desjtijtution that prevailed,'and htoong
the many whose hearts were moved with
sympathy for. the sufferers was Agnes, th 6
owner of the diamond cross. Ail the moiiey
she could call her own was cheerfully given'
bifl IlfW 6' , niy ’ a th e* miost J and an e
sighed to 5 wo'uld accom
plish whbre so much Was needed. ‘Suddenly
she recalled, her uncle’s worcis : “If this gift
ever becomes ifidhetf awo'sk ad l not hesitate
to dispose.of it.’’ in
very truth a cross? Yet she had prized it
so!dearly— her beautiful’treasure —that 'she
was unwilling to think of- even pawning it-,
much less of parting with it forever. But
the thought of the good she-might thus ac
complish clung t 6 her dayapd night,- and jn
her heart there seemed- to be a voice spy
ing:' X f : > 5 ''i
, C t arry, .thy cross to.,O^im, jvhp hofe
Gross fof^the'e, ! a'nd thou ! sbalt have treasure
in heaven.” . '
> The jeweler looked somewhat puzzled
when Agnes stood at his counter one winter
morning and asked if he were willing to
take back* the Diamond-Gross. But diamonds
had risen in vhlue since the cross wap pur
chased and he readily paid her the sum
that had been, named as its .price a few
months previous; and before the day was
done the 'Diamond Gross had carried sun
shine and plenty into many a darkened and
destitute home.
It Was soon known that the cross was
again offered for sale, and numerous were
the surmises to the*possible motivqthat bad
.induced Agues to part with it, But they
were all- far wide of the truth, for the young
girl bad. disposed her charity so quietly that
few knew to what use the proceeds of her
uncle’s gift- had been appropriated; '
With.her it was the opening of h new era.
In laying down her cross of diamonds, she
had taken up that of an earnest self-saerific
i: g life, and thenceforth she carried in her
heart, ,the consciousness of. blessing ot.hers
and df fteing “rich toward '<3t<>& > ”—(jhicifgo
Sunday School Teacher. * .;
ARMS OF LOVE.
[The 1 folio wing, article, is a beauty; Umpng
beautkSj in a volume by Eev. Dr. Todd, en
!tit jedfPNUts.for Boys to, |D rackpublished
by the American Tract Society, New York:];
There is sotoething very beautiful ,in the
loVe between a father and a daughter—the
one throwing the strong arm of manhood I
around the.frail'jlittle one, afidtsfi®, like an|
«.w > _ »,juysss/ j
ivy, clinging to lnm with that
Ml Hi.?
Tor many weeks I noticed that on such a
day and hour a poor man'would pass my
8 -hjSshtflb
aangbf er about eight or ,ning years old,:, He
carried her from; the depotto the medical
college, nearly or Quite thre,e,quarters of a
mile,'abff in’about'an Hour be'Carried her
back again.vi Sovhe miistyqarry her, don’t
know h.ow far,, to and frpm .the cars. How;
itenderly he' embraees'and how confidently,
she'th'rows her arms around his neck." Who*
afe t'hßy ? .’.j :
■ This poor child, some months agg, hprt
her lbg by a fall as was supposed.' Her pa-:
rents were too ignorant of .wounds or ;ofj
sickness to know what to ;do, till the-leg
became /so bad that they feared, sbo nfusti
lose it. ■' ‘ ■
: Now in this medical college there’is a
•time set apart twice a week, called a
“ Clinique,” where the poor,and suffering
may com.| ,4b,di ; reeeiye the best medical,ad
vice fPee' , of ; all , it is astonish
ing'Bow many.,.gladly avail themselves of
the, surgeotfsi
came to examine, this poor child they found
her in a very bad condition. So they gaVe;
her something to smell which put her into
a sleep so sound knew nothing of;
what they were dorngpv While asleep tneyj
opened the leg andfoundthe bone dead and]
loose, as if it had Beqp'' aanard, dry stick in
the flesh, irritating;it ami making it sore.
So they took out th,e : whdle of the dead bone,
and very carefully did' u’p.jthe wound and
sent her home. It'is to have?this poor leg
examined and dressed thatber poor father
thus carries her every week. He is too poor
to hire a carriage., They dqn’t talk as they
pass along, but I can see that they under
stand each other; •
And whit is to be the sur
geons could take out the they
could orie7;Aio, nothing
like it. But'therP’cPg| f es to the bedside of that
child an unseqfi-jfbysician who' works over the
limb
coming a is actual-
ly growing where the old one was. And in
a few months it is thought the child will
have the leg all be able to run
around as she used to do ! What a wonder
ful Physician is that! How can he put in
particle by particle, atom after atom of soft
matter, carried there and left in just the
right spot, and then make it harden and
turn into bone ? What a wonderful Physi
cian !
How good is the Lord. Under no religion
but.that of Chtist, has the Surgeon and the
physician so much skill. It was foretold
that “The lame should leap as a hart,” and
it comes to pass every day. The mind and
the skill of the surgeon must all come from
&od. It is borrowed from Him. How won
derful, too, that the highest skill in the
world is thus at the command of the poor,
‘‘ without money and without price.” The
gospel, too ciSates tbis benevolence. None
but Christian lands produce such charities
for the poor. And how good is the Lord in
-implanting sueb-a-love in-the heart of the
parent, so .that* the> :mone.'helpless , his child
is,;the more h,e loves her.;, and the more she
suffers the more he Will do for hjer.. He don’t
feel his arms ache as he carries her: He
don’t'thiiik.of himselfat-al-H ’ His child-fills
his heart; he only 1 , thinks of- havih’g his
chili made whole. X,\/\ .'
Ah,’ yes; I ,,and, I,know of,a' w!bq
can-do, more thfliniall this:' .He, cap;take
away .the heart of give a ’heaPt
of flesh.” ;How ■ • -be- ■ dobs it' wfe" know’- notf,
anymore than we'kno^j'hSw’tjhe'new'bon'e
in “this child's'leg is to grow, Trulyhe
may well b.ft caiiftd “T.he great‘Physician.”
Our? Surgeons dotheir best for the poor child
ffitHout fee or reward. And do does he’give
his'skiil and services witlfoht mh'Ay h! 1
,ward. ’Th ere are so me oases - though t " f ’to
itjhese. physiciah.s w.bifth they cannot cure,
but none are brought to Hiih so bad that
He Cannot cure tbefmV This “‘Gliniqlie ” is
'ipeh to the poor only on chf||m days ; but
He,ever stands/ at the, dp6r, and you may
'knock.and He.will .open it. '.'This little one
(may pass cut of the Surgeon’s-mind till she
Comes -again. But out of the thoughts of
fh|. great Physician thd 'sicli one never is
Absent a inoinent. O blessed One! This
Divine- helpor takes our infirmities and
bears our sicknesses aiidY's -never weary
with bearing- them. Will ypii not- carry
your wounded spirit to Him f ’f6y,divine heal
ing?' / '' V r’-
THE BABY.
Who knows not the beautiful group of
babe apd mother,, sacred in nature,-now sa
cred also in the religious associations of half
the ’globe ?' Welcome to the parents is the
puny struggler, .strpng in ,his weakness, his
little arms more irresistible than the sol-
his lips touched with persuasion
which Oiiatham and Pericles in manhood
had not. , The small despot asks so little
that all nature and reason are on his side.
morsF’cbanmD'g'tfhnn“all
knowledge, apdihis-little;sins more bewitch
ing than,apy?tihlAA. Ay,/between his
three or four sleeps, he coos like a pigeon,
sputters and spurns, and pjuts on his faces
of importance; And'when he, fasts; the lit
tle Pharisee fails not to sound his trumpet
before him. Out of blocks and thread-spools,
‘cards and checkers, he will build bis pyra
mid with 1 the-gravity of Palladia. 'With an
acoustic apparatus - of whistle and rattle, he
bApl.preAjhc’l'awEi o£bound!fi‘lbuf'cliiefly, like
bi's senior LCountry-men, the young Ameri
can studies new and speedier modes of
transportation, llistrustingth’e cunning of
his small legs; he wishes to ride on the necks
and shoulders of all flesh. The small en
chanter nofhiqg can,,withstand— no fteniori
ty of age/ no gravity of character, unless;
aunts, /cousins, gran dames, grandsires—all
fall an easy prey. He conforms to nobody;
all conform to him.- :-All caper and make
m'puths, apd babble and chirrup to.him. On
the strongest shoulders he rides; bnd pulls
the hair.ofdaureled,.heads.—Umersoa. ,
AN APOSTATE MINISTER—NO EXOUSE POR
>, INFIDELITY. ~i 3 ■
A minister in whom the late Rev. Andrew
Fuller had once placed entire Confidence,
and with whom he. had for a long series of
been, very intimate, fell into an awful
public sin',,and threwia blasting mildew over
religion throughout au extensive‘Cominiini
:‘y-„ .
,ment created ; by-tne> ;sad event; came the
season,.fqr aiPjublic, meeting of ministers, an
nually held in conniption with r tbe Church.
Some of the neighboring clergymen pro
p'Psp’dttKlpmissipApflbe.Spiyjpeso,ni account
of the state of the public mind, but to this
arrangement Hr.TuUer very decided : y ob
jected. The uliM’sessioh wa’s held, and Hr.
. 1 A vidst
crowdiassembled, expectiug'Of course, some
allusion to bis former friend ; nor were they
SHMs O, J
of profeesors of religion —their frequency,
causes, and awful results. His feelings
through out.'werer'very'teirder;'and "many of
his hearers, both clergy and laity, were,
during ,mps,ti ofiithe sermon; in, tears. He,
however, restrained his emotions within
bounds till fbb close of his
sermon. Then addressing the unconverted
part'of histaudienee, he besought tbem vnot
to !beoome«hardened tin their:cguilt,».<orii£eg
lect .of because
some who had borne “ the. vessel of the
Lord” hadsinned. “Lneednot,” he added,
with great tenderness of spirit,' “make more
distinct-referjenee ; but 0,. remember .that, if
I, and fhese my brethren in the ministry,
and every other professing Christian in the
world-, were to make shipwreck of faith and
character, and to fall into crime like poor
, religion would be still, the same grand
system of truth and morality, andyou would
be # lost .if.yoii _ rejected if.,
Lord'Jesus'Chrisi i| the .standard of charac
ter, and not poor sinners likVus.”
Let ns By (ionstraihftVbut
s;v-1 sVv*'-- ■
HAEYESTS ON HISTORIC HELDS.
Three years ago the battle’s breath
Swept fiery hot across the plain;
And steadily the reaper Death,
With cruel Carnage in his train,
Marched through the serried ranks that stood
Unwavering, and cut them down;
While field and farm, and hill and wood
Grew dark beneath the battle’s frown.
The cannon thundered in their wrath,
The musket rang with volleys there ;
The.loud shell cut its trackless path,
And burst with fury in the air;
And thickly by the trodden way.
In dyke and field, by level lows
Of trampled corn, Death’s harvest lay—
Friend close by friend, and foe with foes.
To-day another harvests stands
Where once Death trod the bleeding plain,
Kips' for the reapers ready hands,
That bind in sheaves the golden grain.
Afar the sheltered farm-house sleeps,
Embowered in shade ; while ; o’er the mound,
With pitying growth,the wild vine creeps,
Where rides rang with deadly sound.
Up from the covert starts the quail,;
As, chancing on her hidden nest,
The farmer lad, .with noisy Jtail,.. .
Spies, quick as thought, the speckled breast.
And low and sweet the echoes call;
While fVom the blue sky overhead,
£n mellow ri'diance flooding all,
The golden light of peace is shed. '
Harper's Weekly.
BE or A GOOD COURAGE.
Two young men'had gofoe to spend their,
fortnight’s holidays with ' other two cojn
panions, in one oY'ttfffMost''beautifhF parts
of Perthshire. spent the days in fish
ing and driving, add the evenings in menjy,
conversation and singing ybut-duEing aii the
time of their stay..there, they never once
had evening; or morning' worship, although
each" was accustomed to have irregularly at
home with their’parents.
On the morning of the second Saturday,
according,,to, agreement, those two set, off
to see the Trossachs, and night found them
cheerfully recounting' the sights of the day
in one of the Glasgow hotels.
Before going to rest, one of them took his
Bible and saiii: “ Shall I read a little ?*’
“ Certainly,”-said the other; “we should
have had a chapter every evening.”
What a home-thrust this was ! for,iduring
all ,their stay at ;C •, he had striveh to
overcome his backwardness-, but'could not,
from a false fear. And yet, now be found
hov* gladly such a proposaiwould have been
received. For .a- careful observer would
have seen the one,,remaining behind, While
all the rest had retiredj in order that he
might read from an old pocket Bible, a loved
legacy of a but lately departed'mother; and
the' other, retiring earlier, : that he might
pray to Him who had but a ’short time Be
fore taken away a loving and beloved father.
So that the two were at the same time sup
plicating, a common Father,, while-neither
dared to acknowledge, their common rela
tionship to Him.
Reader, do.you ever, refrain from a known
duty, from a false fear of others? Refrain
no longer ; for there is a happiness spring
ing from the duty performed , which more
than repays the overcoming of,the obstacle,
At’ first you will find it as difficult to ac
knowledge God before your brothers o'r .com
panions, as it was forth at little'boy whose
example reformed his' ship’s crew; but there
remain's the same promise to both : “ Who
soever shall confess me before men, him
shall the Son, of man. also confess,before the
angels of God:” —Christian Treasury..
A HAPPY HEART.
A little boycatne "to me this morning with
a broken arroiv, and begged me to mend it
for him. It was; a very handsome arrow,
and was the pride,of his heart, just then, so
I did; not wonder to see his, lips quivering,
and the tears come into his eyes.
“I’ll try tp fix it, darling,” I said, “but I’m
afraid I can’t do it.”
He 'watched Trie anxiously for a few mo-,
merits and.then said, cheerfully: .
“Never mind, mamma; if you caij’t fix it,
I’ll just beias:happy without it.”
Wasn’t that a brave, sunshiny b'eart?
And that made ftie think of a dear little girl,
only three years old, whom' I once saw
bringing -out' her " Choicest playthings -to
amuse a little homesick cousin. Among the
rest was a little 'trunk/ wjth bands of silk
paper for straps—a very pretty toy; but
careless.little Freddie tipped the lid too. far
back,and»,broke it off. He burst out with
a ery of fright, but little Minnie, with her
own eyes full of tears, said:
“Never triind, Freddie; : jhst see what a
cunning little cradle the top will make'.”
Dear little Minnie went: to live with the
angels ,a few years ago, but. we have a great
many such sweet memories to keep, Of her.
■ Keep a happy heart, little children, and
you will be like Sunbeams every where you
go. —Little Corporal.'
THE SKEPTIC. AND THE CHILD.,
Mr. Hone,-the . well-known author of the
“ Every-Day Book,” was, in the d.ays.of his
infidelity, travelling in, Wale| on';, foot.
Being tired and thirsty, he stopped at the
door of a cottage where there was a little
girl reading a large Bible. He asked the
child if she would please to give him a drink
of water. : ' ;
in, mother will.give you some milk.” , .
Mr. Hone followed the little girl into the
cottage, where he partook i of the .nutritious
beverage; the little girla gain resuming her
seat and her book, After a short conversa
tion with her mother, Mr. Hone came Out
and accosted the child at the dborsCl* 1 Well’
my little girl,'are you getting ?” ’
We Bibie < ?”^ 3 '” Bh6 ropHed ’ “^ tri: * ea #S
“ But, said Mr. 'tyou. are. getting:
, your task, out of the Bible. ■ S 6
' .1.“ ™ no ’ 8ir .’ iU ? no task to mo to read
the Bible;, it is a pleasures*
These words of the child had such an ef
fect on Mr. Hone, that he determined to read
the Bible for himself. By God’s blessing
this led to the skeptic’s conversion, and he
became a champion in upholding and de
fending the great truths contained in that
blessed book.
PITHY EXTRACTS FROM ADAMS’ EX
POSITION OF 2 PETER.
Man’s activity required. —It is not fit that
heaven should take all the pains to bring
earth to it: earth must do somewhat to
bring itself to heaven. He that lies in a
dark pit will yet offer his hand to him that
will help him up. Jeremiah did put the
cords under his own arms, that Ebed-melech
lei .down to draw him out of the dimgeon.
[Jer, xxxviii.. 12.) If the lord, of the manor
have given thee a.tree,- thou wilt be at the
charges to cut it down and carry it home.
He that works, first in ‘thy conversion hath
in wisdofn made thee second.
Milijence.—Ke that expects a, royalty in
heaven must admit. a, service .upon earth.
The gopd man is weary of doing nothing,
for nothing is so laborious as idleness. Ber
bard calls it & dumb numbness of the soul,
which! negleets'to begin, or is Weary to pro
secute any good work. Sajtan’p,employment
is prevented' when he, finds y0u..we11... em
plpyed 'bjeiore>iie|eomes. Thomas h Bucket,
np good-piap,,,and in no good cause, -when
he was admonished to. be less stirring, in
State matters, answered that he sat at the
stern, and not to sleep. T-his
is ;a Christian’s cape.. Do % Steer the helm
Of 1 ‘my oWn ! Wssfel, wherein' my soul is the
passenger, and ipy hope 'of blessedness the
freight, and wdifid you have me 'sleep ?
Augustus',' bearing that a Roman far in
debt, slept quietly during bis lifts;,sent, after
his deatbj'to btiy'his pillow 1 . '' It’is a strange
pillow whereon some’ slumber, that owe so
much to God and man. 1 *
• Idleness.— lt•'is observable that although
the Romans were so idle as to make idleness
a gOd, yet they allowed not that idle idol a
temple 'within the ’city, but'without the
walls. Let us deal with idleness and wan
tonness 63 Philip of MaeedOn did with two
such persons—'cause the 1 one to drive the
other out- bf our coasts: Sodom slept, but
her damnation slept no*t. !
Tbeunjust stewar&'outof office forecasts
himself—“l cannot 'dig; to beg I am
ashamed.” We have those' who can dig, yet
are not ashamed to beg. Many a one says,
not n I oaundlttbulsL Will not dig." It is a
mercy to give them three things-—correction,
work and meab. = s ' 1
Begin Work' Early. : —When Abraham re
ceived the woefullest charge that ever was
given to a father, concerning his Only son,
he rose early to do it. (Gen. xx. 3.) On
the Week days' Ovety man bisOS" early to his
trade; on the Lord’s day, when the business
of their souls'is Specialiy Oh hand, men usu
ally sleep theirfill.
Vigilance.— finds tts ! careless, smites
us in the night of ignorance, and carries us
away captives before : we perceive it.
Money; is able to make thousands feel se
cure; but, magna seeufitas.riiaxiuia tempestas.
No man perfectly knows' his ownheart-; you
think all well; ithis,,may not be assurance,
but sccareness. Jn vadupt urbem somnovi
noque sepultam. When they shall say,
“ Peace an d a-afety, then .sudden destruction
cometh on thorn.” 1 . >
Beware.— men hunt after the wprld’s
venison with ,Bsau, they are in danger of
losi rig their Father’s hi easing. .![■.!
The Conquest of Faith!!—Ok, how difficult
it is to conquer this world! Yet faith can
fio it. “ This is the victory,'that overcometh
the world, even our faith.” Every true
Christian is greajter than William the Con-
greater than Alpxanifer the Great,
greater than the Great Turk; for they con
quered in many.years but ft few parts of the
world.; but the. believer, in one hour, with
one act only, snbdues the whole world, with
all things in tlie, world.
THE DYIHG CHILD.
I knew a collier in Staffordshire who had
one dear little girl, the last of four of five.
This child was the light of his eyes ; and as
he came from itne pit at" night she used to
meet him at the door of his cot to welcome
him home. One day when he came in to
dinner he missed his little darling, and going
clogs,
his wife called him upstairs. The stillness
of the inade his
heart sick, anu a foreboding of evil cairie* upon
him. His wife told him they were going to
lose their.|ittl| larub; a convulsive
fit, and the doctor said she couldn’t live. As
the tears made furrows downhis black facb and
he leaned over his darling, she said, “Daddy,
sing,”' - ■ " - v
1 r “ Here is no rest, ifi no rest.”
“No, my child, I can’ksing; T’m choking;
I can’t sing.”
“0 do, daddy, sing, ‘Here is no rest.’ ”
(The 1 poor fellow tried to sing,'
“Here o’er th'e earth as a. stranger I roam,
Here is no rest, is no rest.”
But hils voice could jmake/ ho way agains
his trouble. Then he tried again, for he
vjanteicl to plefsp his Iwee't litfiegirl. !
“Here are, afflictions and trial* ! eevere,
■ Hereis norest,is no rest;
Here’ Itaiustpart with the friends ! hold dear,
■ Y.et 1 am- blest, l.am blest.”
Again his Voice was choked, with peeping;
but the little one whispered;. “Come, daddy,
sing, ‘Sweet is the promise,”’ and the poor
father goes on again.
■‘Sweet in the promise. I read in thy word,
Blessed are they who have died in the lord,
They liav4 been called to receive their reward;
' There, there is rest; there is rest”
“that’s
itaud-with her arinsaround the collier®
neck, she died happy in the Lord.