amazed, scarcely able to understand why young auntie cried.

But Archie said, 'What more did your papa say, Auntie? did he come home soon?'

'No, Archie, these words were the last I ever heard papa speak; that parting was our last. Long months of suspense followed, in which we children learned too well to understand the horrors of war. We elder ones watched with sorrow mamma's changed face. A shadow rested over us; only little Bertie was gay.

"Papa tome home soon, mamma, very soon now," he would say, patting her cheek; and sometimes we used to think that his confiding spirit and hopeful words cheered mamma more than words of ours did.

'Papa had been away six months when a letter came. The writing was in an unknown hand, and the news it bore told my mother that she was a widow, and we fatherless. Yes, darlings, papa was dead; he fell fighting bravely went home, Archie, to the heavenly home of the many mansions, where, through the merits of Jesus, we shall all meet again.

But now, dears, you can understand how I never hear the old proverb, "There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," without thinking of old nurse and that evening long ago, and of the painful practical illustration we had of it, and the Scripture text, "Boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth."

The children liked Aunt Clara's story, and thanked her for it. And when Archie repeated it to his father, he told him that the proverb, 'There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip,' was originally a Greek one, and the tradition of its origin is, that when some slaves were planting and laying out a vineyard, their master treated them so cruelly, that at last one of the worst-used prophesied that, in revenge for his cruelty, he should never drink of the wine of the vineyard. When the first vintage was complete, the master bade this slave fill a goblet for him, which he

took in his hand, and taunted him with the falseness of his prophecy. Then the slave made use of the words from which our proverb 'There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip' has arisen. As he spoke, tidings were brought that a large wild boar was wasting the vineyard; setting down the untasted cup, the master went out to meet the wild boar, and was killed in the encounter.

M. H.

'I KNOW THE WAY TO HEAVEN.'

A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT.

HESE words were spoken by little Minnie to little Johnny, who stood by her side looking on a picture-book that Minnie had in her hand.

'You do?' said little John. 'Well, won't you tell me how to get there?'

'Oh yes, I'll tell you. Just commence going up, and keep on going up all the time, and you'll get there. But, Johnny, you must not turn back.'

'Well,' said Johnny, 'I won't.'

They had both been looking at a picture of our Saviour's head pressed with thorns, and the blood trickling down His face. This excited little Minnie's sympathies, and bending her little head, she kissed the face of the picture three times, and said aloud to herself, 'My mamma has been teaching me the way to heaven for a long time, and now I know the way so well I can go by myself.'

How many

Little Minnie is only three years old. grown folks are there that can say they know the way to heaven, and can go by themselves?

Yes, Minnie has told you all the way. Keep going up; for the way to heaven leads upwards, whilst the downward way is towards hell.-Presbyterian.

JESUS DIED FOR ME.

I LOVE to sing of that great power
That made the earth and sea;
But better still I love the song
Of 'Jesus died for me.'

I love to sing of shrub and flower,
Of field, and plant, and tree;
My sweetest note for ever is,
That Jesus died for me.'

I love to hear the little birds
Attune their songs with glee;
But little birds can never sing
That Jesus died for me.'

I love to think of angels' songs,
From sin and sorrow free;
But angels cannot strike their notes
To 'Jesus died for me.'

I love to speak of God, of heaven,
And all its purity;

God is my Father, heaven my home,
For Jesus died for me.'

And when I reach that happy place,
From all temptations free,
I'll tune my ever rapt'rous notes
With 'Jesus died for me.'

There shall I at His sacred feet,
Adoring, bow the knee,

And swell the everlasting choir
With 'Jesus died for me.'

J. M.

THE EFFECT OF A SERMON.

HEN the venerated Flavel, a pious English. divine, was preaching, for the last time in his life, a crucified Christ, he took as his text the words: If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha,' I Cor. xvi. 22. Amongst the congregation was a handsome, intelligent boy, of about ten years old, who wished to understand the meaning of these long words. The preacher satisfied his curiosity. He explained that Anathema Maranatha meant cursed-when the Lord of Glory returns to judge the world. Having got his curiosity satisfied, the boy paid little more attention to the sermon, and was glad when it was finished. When the preacher, at the conclusion, was going to pronounce the blessing, he suddenly let down his hands, and said with tears: 'My poor hearers, if any of you do not love the Lord Jesus, and continue unchanged to the end; though I were to bless you now, yet the Lord, when He comes, will curse you; and how can I bless any one who is so unthankful and unreasonable as not to love the Lord Jesus Christ?'

These words made a great impression upon the boy; but in half an hour they were forgotten.

Years passed; and the boy had become an enterprising young man, and he determined to try his fortune in America, along with some companions.

The Lord allowed him to prosper. He became a rich man, and his children and grandchildren grew up around him; but in the eyes of God he was poor, and blind, and naked, for the Lord says: "What shall it profit a man though he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' When he had become a grey-headed man of ninety years, he was digging in his garden, and leaned wearily on his

spade. In spirit he fancied himself back in his childhood in his father's house; and all that he had seen there passed through his mind. Also that sermon which had made such an impression on him he remembered now. In spirit he saw Flavel standing before him, and heard anew his words of power. Suddenly he collected himself, went into his house, and took the old Bible out of its dusty corner. The Holy Spirit worked in his heart; he cast himself in deep sorrow before God, and sought and found mercy through Jesus Christ. From that time the wish arose to get his relations and his neighbours saved. He built a chapel, got a missionary, and when he was a hundred years old, he had the joy before his death of seeing a flourishing mission station at his dwelling-place in the wilds.

Did Flavel think, as he sowed the seed of God's word, that a little grain of the corn would fall into the heart of a boy, and first spring up, eighty years afterwards, in the far off west of America? When he meets the old man in heaven, he will strike his golden harp anew, and sing a new song of praise to the Lord of the harvest, and glorify His wonderful dealings with the children of men.