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morn, knowing that it will add to, instead of decreasing his wretchedness, Glad would he be, if his body could be for ever in the quiet tomb, rather than by being raised up and immortalized become capable of enduring the endless misery of that place where the fire burns but never consumes, and where there is a worm that never dies. Happily neither we nor any who are, or who ever shall be dwellers on this green earth need know by sad experience the fearful condition of the lost. For the Lord is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. I am sure I need not ask my young readers where they would prefer spending eternity. There could be but one answer to such a question. But allow me, in concluding, to remark that time is very short and uncertain. Death is very busy around us; and ere the summer flowers of which you have been reading bloom, the summons may come for some of us to exchange worlds. Then let us not forget that as the tree falls so it lies, and that as death leaves us judgment will find us. Many who enjoyed the flowers with us last summer have long since been carried to their last resting-place. Let us so live that whenever death Comes, it may find us ready to be transported to that land,

Where everlasting spring abides

And never withering flowers. Though most of the readers of the “ Juvenile Companion” are strangers to me now, I trust we shall eventually have the pleasure of meeting and becoming friends in our Father's house above.



IN Mariposa, California, there lived a large-eyed, beautiful little prattlerMary Cannon. One evening, when all was silent, she looked up anxiously into the face of her back-sliding father--who , had ceased to pray in his family—and said, -“ Pa, is God dead?”

child. Why do you ask me such a question as that?"

- Why, pa, you talk to Him as you used to do.”

These words haunted him till he was reclaimed. He related the incident to me while I was travelling that circuit. - Life Boat.


They illustrated it thus,—"A vessel sailing from Joppa carried a passenger, who, beneath his berth, cut a hole through the ship's side. When the men of the watch expostulated with him, What doest thou, O miserable man?' the offender calmly replied,—What matters it to you? The hole I have made lies under my own berth.""

This ancient parable is worthy of the utmost consideration. No man perishes alone in his iniquity; man can guess the full consequences of his transgressions.

No, my




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Sages of old contended that no sin was ever committed whose consequences rested on the head of the sinner alone—that no

man could do ill and his fellows not

FIDDLING." The chirping and singing of the cricket and grasshopper are frequently spoken of; but they do not singthey fiddle. By rubbing wings and legs togethereach in a manner peculiar to the species—these insects produce the sounds which

by the


God in prayer.

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characterise them. Perhaps

else in sleep. He did not our best insect instrument

like to see any of God's peoperformer is the “katydid.” ple; he tried to avoid the Each wing contains a little

pastor when he called upon tamborine, and, open

the family; and if the mining and shutting of the

ister prayed with the family wings, these rubbed

he would not kneel before against each other, and produce the sound of “katy

The sweet little girl asked did-she-did,” which can be

again : Dear

pa, won't heard at such a long dis

you meet your little Kate in tance, and gives the insect

heaven ? Won't Jesus let its name. These sounds are

you in?” The father, with supposed to be useful in en

choking words and blinding abling insects to find their

tears, replied : “ No dear, mates; or they may indulge

I don't expect to go to heain them for their own gratifi- ven.” Then the little child, cation, and to add to the ge

raising her eyes in amazeneral harmony of nature.

ment, and with a wild ex

pression of fear upon her PA, WILL

face, said: " Must little IN HEAVEN?"

Kate be in heaven alone So said a little angel girl

with ma and Julia and Rose, a few minutes before her

and pa will not be there?" spirit fled to be with Jesus.

and holding up her thin could not answer

white hand, clasped his her simple question, for he

hand, and said, “

He cared not for heaven.


pa, dear pa: never went to the house of

never see you again !” and God, though his pastor with

her sweet angel spirit fled to tears besought him to come.

be with Jesus. He never read his Bible,

Dear children, ask your never prayed.

He spent his Sabbaths in visiting un

pa to meet you in heaven.

Child's Paper. godly friends, in idleness, or


Her pa

I shall never,


Canadian Hymn.

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hours are come at


Flowers and



bright-ly spring ; Birds a

midst the branches


bright-ly spring ; Birds a - midst the branches sing.

As I watched the river flowing,

Ever onward, never still,
Ever working out the purpose

Of a higher will :
Thought I, thus my life is flowing

Like that river to the sea,
To the boundless, quiet ocean

Of a long eternity.


goes ever onward
In its ceaseless flow,
Is it then an aimless purpose ?

Would that I might know.
No, I said, in quiet nature

His own hand I see;
Then, if I but do His will,

Life can never aimless be.

They say that God lives very high !
But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our God. And why?
And if you dig down in the mines,
You never see Him in the gold,
Though from Him all that's glory shines.
God is so good, He wears a fold
Of heaven and earth across His face-
Like secrets kept, for love untold.
But still I feel that His embrace
Slides down by thrills, through all things made,
Through sight and sound of every place:
As if my tender mother laid
On my shut lids her kisses' pressure,

Half waking me at night, and said :
“ Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser ?”

-Elizabeth Barrett Brownin; .

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