trary, he then supposes that he must have made some mistake in the ceremonies, and perhaps renews his poojah.-Rev. C. B. Leupolt. "A HEART MEMORY." Mothibi, the chief of twenty thousand Bechuanas, was converted to Christianity after the mission had been established twenty-five years. He was very old. Speaking of himself he said, "My mind is dark, and my memory cannot retain the good word; but though it forsakes me, it does me good. It leaves something behind in my soul which I cannot explain, but which causes me to hope." I have known many excellent persons, whose lives gave indubitable evidence of piety, who were unable to give any intelligible account of even the plainest discourse; yet they were profited, and their profiting appeared unto all. The ignorant need the blessings of the Gospel as much as the learned, and they may have them. They listen to the truth, it produces its purifying work upon the soul; and though they may not be able to repeat a single proposition in which that truth was set forth, nay, not even the text, yet they are edified and made better. Some one has quaintly remarked, that grace makes a heart memory, even where there is no good head memory. THE HOLY SEPULCHRE AT JERUSALEM. A visit to the sepulchre is replete with painful associations and feelings. The aged and the young, the noble and the beggar, undergo many a peril and privation, and encounter many hardships, to bow down before the supposititious sacred places and relics. The young and beautiful, the fairest daughters of other lands, were there, with pale faces and shrunken features, that bespoke much mental and bodily pain, days of toil, and weary journeying. Yon man, with a proud and haughty bearing, whose piercing dark eyes wander restlessly over the sea of heads, bespeaks a noble origin; but, ever and anon, a saddened look over spreads his features, and reveals a tale of hidden woe-perhaps the remembrance of some dark deed committed that must now be atoned for by rigid penance and vigil. Contrast all the groups of devotees with the jovial-looking monks around; the impassioned fervour and intense devotion of the pilgrims, whose days are numbered, with the jocund laugh of the priest, well lodged and fed. Does not this scene of hope and sorrow, of joy and repentance, of self-denial and triumph, teach us a mighty lesson? Who can gaze on these people, who have sacrificed health and happiness, wealth and luxury, in exchange for poverty with fell disease, and not be sad? Yet these people, who have braved so much, implicitly believe all they see and all they are told, and go their way faint and hungry, but buoyed up with the shadow rather than the substance--the illusion, and not the reality.-Notes of Travels. . PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Little do we know what is for our permanent good. Had Bunyan been discharged and allowed to enjoy liberty, he no doubt would have returned to his trade, filling up his intervals of leisure with field preaching; his name would not have survived his own generation, and he could have done little for the religious improvement of mankind. The prison-doors were shut upon him for twelve years. Being cut off from the external world, he communed with his own soul: inspired by Him who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire, he composed the noblest of allegories, the merit of which was first discovered by the lowly, but which is now lauded by the most refined critics; and has done more to awaken piety and to enforce the precepts of Christian morality, than all the sermons that have been published by all the prelates of the Anglican church.-Lord Chief Justice Campbell. FIVE CONSCIENCES. There are five kinds of con A sciences on foot in the world:-First, the fifth is a quiet and clear conscience, purified in Christ. wounded conscience is rather painful than sinful · an affliction, no offence; and is the ready way, at the next remove, to be turned into a quiet conscience.-Kitto. an ignorant conscience, which neither sees nor says anything-neither beholds the sins in the soul, nor reproves them; secondly, the flattering conscience, whose speech is worse than silence itself, which, though seeing sin, soothes men in the committing thereof; thirdly, the seared conscience, which has neither sight, speech, nor sense in men that are "past feeling;" fourthly, the wounded conscience, frightened with sin; CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. Men may obey others from fear or self-interest, but the Christian obeys "because the love of Christ constraineth him." Poetry. HYMN BY MARTIN LUTHER. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY J. HARBOTTLE. REJOICE, dear Church of Christ, rejoice, | That wondrous work of God's own Son, My good works earn'd me nought but woe: They fill'd the awful measure; Sure, nought but death remains for me, But God, from long eternity, And plann'd a great salvation; He spake to his beloved Son : "T is now the time for favour; The Son at once came down to earth, That he might conquer Satan. To me he said, "Hold fast on me, And I will for thee wrestle; "My blood as water they shall pour, For thee I suffer that dread hour; Thus shall thy soul be happy. "Victorious then to heaven I'll soar, "What I have promised, said, and done, The Children's Gallery. MULTUM IN PARVO; OR, "THERE'S MORE IN THAT THAN YOU THINK FOR." How often you hear this remark made; and no wonder, because people are so fond of judging by external appearances. It is a very foolish thing to do so, but it is a very popular custom. How often are men measured by the clothes they have on their backs, rather than by the brains they have in their heads? A plain-looking person from the country once went into an inn in the Borough, London. He was dressed in what is called a "smock," and he was taken to be some waggoner or clod-hopper. He ordered a beef-steak for his dinner. He went out to transact some business whilst his meal was being prepared. After a time he returned, and, entering the kitchen, he saw the maid at the fire preparing the feast for the stranger. He observed that she turned it over with her fingers! "Is that steak for me?" said 'the man with the smock.' "Yes," said the girl. "Oh, then, you need not trouble yourself to finish cooking it for me," said he, and out the man walked. They had mistaken their customer. He was a large hop merchant from Kent. I knew a man who once went to a sale where a very valuable estate was to be disposed of. There were numbers of finely-dressed gentlemen present who were bidding, but this person to whom I refer was attired just like a farm labourer, and the company finely sneered and stared when, by his bids, he raised the figure beyond the reach of any there present, and finally had knocked down to him what he had determined to possess. He was worth his hundreds thousands. And who has not heard of the foolish man at the great Exhibition in Hyde-park, who, when asked by an unpretending looking female to explain some machinery of which he had care, said, “Oh, I can't be bothering to explain it to every woman that comes here." "Oh! never mind, if it's any trouble to you," said the lady, and passed on. Do you know to whom you have been speaking?" said some gentleman who stepped up to the machinist. "No." 66 Why, to Her Majesty the Queen!" The man was ready to pull his tongue out of his mouth. It would have been well for him if he had kept it still. He forgot the motto, Multum in parvo. I dare say you have heard that story of the sailor who went to the warehouse of a Dutch merchant on business, and received from the proprietor a fine red herring for his breakfast; and seeing upon the counter what he supposed to be an onion, and fancying it would relish with the fish, he popped it into his pocket, and made for his ship again, where he sat down to enjoy his repast. But just as he was finishing the last slice of the onion, he was astonished by the merchant and his warehousemen making their appearance, and arresting him for stealing the bulb of a tulip worth more than a hundred pounds! Poor Jack tar! He little thought what an expensive breakfast he had enjoyed. Well, and so I remember one winter's day walking along a gravel path in a garden, and I kicked against a something which looked very much like a small onion. I picked it up, and soon found what it was. I took it into the house, provided an egg-cup nearly filled with sand and water; I put this onionlike thing in the sand, and then placed the cup on the mantel-shelf over the fire. In the course of a short time it began to shoot, and eventually I had the pleasure of seeing a beautiful crocus in full bloom, as yellow as gold. I have often thought how many poor children, just like that crocus bulb, are lying about on the high road of life, neglected by the passengers and travellers. Whereas, if they were taken care of, and their minds and hearts cultivated, they might be more useful and ornamental than the loveliest flowers. Young reader, you have been cared for and cultivated, and ought you not to feel interested in, and anxious about, those who are otherwise situated? "How many children in the street Half naked we behold!" I come from bowers of light and bliss, What hast thou brought thence, lovely And wherefore dost thou come, sweet Say, wherefore do the woodlands ring? I come to picture that bright land, Yes, half naked in soul as well as in body. What is to be done for them? We must not leave them so, like the casual paupers, shivering and starving half the night at the I bear fresh buds on Earth's lap to doors of the workhouse. fling; What, I touch young sprays with magic hand, then? Why, we must try and And woodlands own my fairy wand. bring them to him who said, "Suffer the little children, and forbid them not to come unto me." Thank God, he has promised to bless the least effort to do good. The egg-cup process was very simple, but it answered the purpose, it brought out the flower. The sand, and the water, and the warmth, which effected the change in the bulb, were all God's agents. So he has prepared themay I call them-spiritual egg-cups in our Sabbath-school and Raggedschool systems, and various missionary and other philanthropic institutions. We must do our best to help these societies, and thus we shall be doing some good in the world. Don't say you are too young to do much, you are not too young to do a little. You know that if people are to be proficient or clever in playing the piano, or any other musical instrument, they must begin early in life. Oaks spring out of acorns. The character of the future man or woman depends a great deal upon the present training of the boy or girl. Let us set to, then, my young friends, and, as the farmers say, "make hay while the sun shines." There is a great deal for There, where unfading sunlight falls— Woodfield, Feb. 14, 1857. SWEETBRIER. THE BUTTERFLY AND THE BEE. "Poor child of vanity, those dyes "Content, I toil from morn till eve; The Cabinet. SECRET PRAYER. As the new-born animal feels the cravings of hunger, and instinctively seeks appropriate nourishment, so the new-born soul hungers and thirsts after God. "My soul thirsts for God; "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." Thirsting and panting are strong expressions, but none too strong, as every true Christian knows. The soul wants more than forgiveness. It wants full deliverance from sin. It wants to be made holy. It wants to be "filled with all the fulness of God." In comparison with all this, every other object of personal desire sinks to insignificance. Of these great and pressing wants prayer is the natural utterance. The heart goes up spontaneously. It cannot help it. It must cry out after God. How obvious it is, that no praying with others can satisfy this feeling. How many Christians have felt, after attending public worship, and even the familiar prayer-meeting, and the yet more familiar worship of the family, a painful consciousness that all this could not satisfy them, and have experienced an irrepressible longing for nearer communion with God-for the privilege of a place for prayer where all the desires of the soul could be fully expressed-where the precious injunction could be literally complied with, "In everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God." We are invited to go to our heavenly Father with all our wants. The soul of every saint has much to say that can only be said alone. How naturally does the desire for near communion with God, and to make all our wants known to him, lead us to the closet. Where else can we get so near to him? Where else can we make known our request." in everything?" The Christian has a great many things to tell his heavenly Father that nobody could utter for him in a prayer-meeting, and that he could not utter there for himself. In the closet all social restraints are thrown off. There he is not distracted with the thought that a fellow-being hears him. He is not restricted to the common wants of a praying assembly. He may fix his mind intensely on his own individual wants, and earnestly and importunately |