THE SECOND PARADISE.

LOST Eden brightly bloomed of yore,
But brief its sinless smiling;
God hath a paradise in store,
That feareth no defiling.

There shall a city be of gold,
With portals pure and pearly;
And never shall those portals fold,
Flung open late and early.

Its name is New Jerusalem,

It cometh out of heaven,

With glory more than gold or gem-
Than star of noon or even.

The blessed through the gates shall go,
The light of life beholding,
And bathing in the golden glow
Of visions fair unfolding.

A crystal wave shall brighten by,
To life immortal sealing;
A fruitful tree grow fair and high
With balmy leaves of healing.

A Shepherd-king his flock shall feed
Upon the sunny mountains;
Their steps to quiet waters lead,
Unsealing all the fountains.

Around shall be a realm of peace,
In dewy beauty lying;

Sin from its blessed bowers shall cease,-
There shall be no more dying.

Oh, when this dream of time is o'er,
So dim-so transitory-

Like a dawn-wakened lark I'll soar,

To sing amid the glory.

A. R. C.

FDINBURGH: T. NELSON AND SONS.

OD'S ear is open to the cry of the hungry lion, and of the black raven, and how much more to yours, if you are a CHILD OF THE KINGDOM, who have begun to trust him, and to call him Abba, Father. From all corners of his kingdom is seen his throne of grace, high and lifted up; and there the golden vials lie in the High Priest's hand, full of the prayers that rise from little ones like you.

Go to him at once with all that grieves you: night and morning will not be enough, if you are to live near to God; your heart might grow hard by night under the

sin that you have done. If any one has said a cross word to you, or if you have felt sad, look again to Jesus and say, "I cannot well tell what is wrong with me, but my heart is sore, thou seest; heal me and make me happy." You will not use these very words; use your own words when you speak to your Father. You do not often sit and think what words you shall use to your mother. We heard once of a little girl who did so, but it was because her mamma was so far a stranger to her. She had come from India when she was a baby, and not seen her since; and so when the carriage brought her mamma to the door, she asked what she must say to her when she came in. But, oh! how you would look, as you fly into your mother's room to tell her all you want and cast your arms around her, if some one should stop you to tell you what to say.

Now it is just the same with your Father in heaven, with Jesus your best Friend, with the Spirit who makes you good; you can get no words so good as your own to tell HIM how hard your heart feels, how many your sins are, how his blood will wash them all out, how you long to see his face, how you would like all the world to see and love him too. Thank him for all the nice things he gives you, for all the pretty things you see; name over to him the places and the people you wish to see him bless. Pray that his name may spread from sea to sea, over Africa, China, India, till the slave be free, and the idols fall, and Jesus be king all through the earth. And at your side your dear mother, who first taught you to come to Jesus, and made for you your first prayer,— she will be glad to hear you able now to use your own little words, she will bless her God that she has a praying child.

Here are the words-one who was beside her at the time could not forget them-with which a poor little

Irish orphan first came to her Father in heaven, at the time when so many were turning to him in Ireland: "O Lord, have mercy on me, a poor sinner. Lord Jesus, come to my heart; come and soften it, for it is hard. O come and warm it, for it is cold as the snow, or as the ice that lieth on the mountains. O Lord, I am here at the foot of thy cross, where none ever perished, humbling myself, a poor sinner, to thee. Oh, may I never perish! Hear, O Lord, the cry of the orphan; for thou hast said, 'I will be a Father to the fatherless, and a Husband to the widow.' Thou didst have on a crown of thorns that I might wear á crown of glory.. Oh, send down the Holy Ghost with the arrows to every person in this house. Lord, I am a poor sinner; I have sinned against thee, but I will do so no more, if thou wilt but have mercy upon me. O Lord, teach me to sing,

'He took me from a fearful pit,

And from the miry clay.'

O Lord, thou art white and beautiful; thou hast on a glorious robe. Dress me with that robe, that I may appear spotless before the presence of thy glory at thy coming. If ever thou didst rend the heavens, O rend them now, and save me, a poor sinner, before I am lost! Open the windows of heaven, and receive me up to thyself before I go down to destruction. Lord, I have travelled so long in the broad road that I am tired of it now, and want to give it up. Oh, lead me to the narrow path and to the strait gate that leadeth unto life. I have no father here, but a glorious Father in heaven."*

M. F. B.

* From "The Child of the Kingdom."

THIS woodcut shows a caravan overtaken by the terrible wind called the Simoom. The traveller Bruce and others have told us much about it. It is very deadly, and comes sweeping across the sandy plains. If inhaled, it causes death on the spot. Travellers know its approach, however, and may escape from its blast if they use proper precautions; for it may be discerned by a blue haze in the atmosphere. When they see this blue haze at a distance, the alarm is given, and all are called on to fall flat on the ground; indeed, the very animals know its approach by instinct, and may be seen burying their heads in the sand till it has swept past. But if, as it passes, any one, young or old, lift up his head, the pestilential blast in a moment breathes death upon him. The one