FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY. that all obstacles are overcome and surmounted. IT IS VERY PLEASANT when we climb to the top of the hill to look back and trace our labours. If we should only get half way up it is better than staying below. Gems. HAPPY THE SOUL who has got above all earthly hopes or fears; who is not too much elated by the one or depressed by the other; who hopes only in Christ, and fears God alone. MAN FELL AT FIRST by withdraw. ing his own will from the will of God. Only by bowing it down submissively, at the feet of God as a little child, can he again be lifted up. ALL RELIGION NOW consists in seeking the gracious favour of God by Jesus Christ. Everything else we may say or do is spending our strength for naught and in vain. HOLINESS IS HAPPINESS. One follows the other as the effect follows the cause. But the holiness must be genuine; not our own fancied virtue or righteousness. OF TRUE HOLINESS we have naturally none. It only comes to us through an unfeigned faith in the righteousness of Christ alone. THE GREAT DESIGN OF CHRIST in coming, living, dying, and rising, was to renew man in righteousness and true holiness, after the image of Him who created him. ABSTAINING FROM EVIL is all very well so far as it goes, but that alone never saved any man since Adam fell. We must believe on Christ, the second Adam, if we would be saved. CAN I DO NOTHING THEN? perhaps you say: no, nothing in the way of merit. But you can beg, pray, and entreat that God for Christ's sake will forgive you. Try Him, and you will find he will. NEVER MEASURE THE WAYS OF GOD by your own ways or the ways of other men. His ways are all his own. He forgives, blesses, and saves men in his own way, which is boundless mercy in Christ. Poetic Selections. THE PILGRIM GOING HOME. "GOING home," and going quickly! It's a thought to cheer the heart. Soon the world and we must part, There's an end of all that grieves us ;— "Going home,"-how sweet, how cheering! 'Mid'st the shining hosts above; "Going home,”- To the place where pilgrims come; 'Tis the blessed hope of seeing Him he loves, in glory there! Blessed hope of ever being With the Lord, His joys to share: 'Tis this hope that lightens toil, And in sorrow makes him smile, Cheers him in the midst of strangers, Keeps him when beset with dangers. Here to live as pilgrims do: When the trial comes, it proves us, IF YOU THINK you can do any-"Going home," then it behoves us thing yourself in order to induce Christ to save you, you are labouring under a great delusion. He is not only willing but waiting to save you now. Proves if we have faith or no. Let us make our calling sure, Let us to the end endure; In the Saviour's love abiding, In the Saviour's strength confiding! THE CHILDREN'S CORNER. The Children's Corner. A HYMN FOR THE CHILDREN. THERE is a FRIEND we ought to love His name is JESUS-and His love Come children, then, for now He lives, What-not forget again? No-not forget again! There is a WORD we ought to prize What-spread the joyful sound? There is a Loss we ought to fear There is a LAND we ought to love What never part again? THE TRUANT HUSBAND, AND HOW HIS WIFE CURED HIM. 'WHERE are you going, George?' asked Mrs. Wilson, as her husband rose from the table, and took his hat. 'Oh, I'm going out,' was the response. 'But where?' asked his wife. 'What odds does it make, Emma?' returned her husband. 'I shall be back at my usual time.' The young wife hesitated, and a quick flush overspread her face. She seemed to have made up her mind to speak plainly upon a subject which had lain intensely upon her heart for some time, and she could not let the opportunity pass. It required an effort-but she persevered. 'Let me tell what odds it makes to me,' she said, in a kind but tremulous tone. 'If I cannot have your company here at home, I should at least feel better if I knew where you were.' 'But you know that I am safe, Emma-and what more can you ask?' 'I do not know that you are safe, George, I know nothing about you when you are away.' "Pooh! pooh! would you have it that I am not capable of taking care of myself?' 6 If I When You put a wrong construction upon my words, George. Love is always anxious when its dearest object is away. did not love you as I do, I might not be thus uneasy. you are at your place of business I never feel thus, because I know I can seek and find you at any moment; but when you are absent during those long evenings, I get to wondering where you are. Then I begin to feel lonesome; and so one thought follows another, until I feel troubled and uneasy. O, if you would only stay with me a portion of your evenings!' Aha, I thought that was what you were aiming at,' said' George, with a playful shake of the head. 'You would have me here every evening.' 'Well, can you wonder at it ?' returned Emma. 'I used to be very happy when you came to spend an evening with me before we were married; and I know I should be very happy in your society now.' Ah,' said George, with a smile, 'those were business meetings. We were arranging then for the future.' THE TRUANT HUSBAND. 'And why not continue so to do, my husband? I am sure we could be as happy now as ever. If you will remember, one of our plans was to make a HOME.' 'And haven't we got one, Emma?' 'We have certainly a place in which to live,' answered the wife, somewhat evasively. And it is our home,' pursued George. 'And,' he added, with a sort of confident flourish, home is the wife's peculiar province. She has charge of it, and all her work is there; while the duties of the husband call him to other scenes.' 'Well, I admit that, as far as certain duties are concerned,' replied Emma. But you must remember that we both need relaxation from labour; we need time for social and mental improvement and enjoyment; and what time have we for this save our evenings?-Why should not this be my home of an evening, as well as in the daytime and in the night?' 'Well-isn't it?' asked George. What makes a home 'How can it be if you are not here? for children, if it be not the abode of the parents? What home can a husband have where there is no wife? And what real home comforts can a wife enjoy where there is no husband? You do not consider how lonesome I am all alone here during these long evenings. They are the very seasons when I am at leisure to enjoy your companionship, and when you would be at leisure to enjoy mine, if it is worth enjoying. They are the seasons when the happiest hours of home-life might be passed. Come will you not spend a few of your evenings with me?' 'You see enough of me as it is,' said the husband, lightly. 'Allow me to be the best judge of that, George. You would be very lonesome here, all alone.' 'Not if it was my place of business, as it is of yours,' returned the young man. 'You are used to staying here. All wives belong to home.' 'Just remember, my husband, that previous to our marriage I had very pleasant society all the time. Of course I remained at home much of my time; but I had a father and mother there, and I had brothers and sisters there-and our evenings were happily spent. Finally I gave up all for you. I left the old home and sought a home with my husband. And now, have I not a right to expect some of your companionship? How would you like it to have me away every evening, while you were obliged to remain here alone?" THE TRUANT HUSBAND. Why I should like it well enough.' 'Ah-but you would not be willing to try it.' 'Yes, I would,' said George, at a venture. 'Will you remain here every evening next week, and let me spend my time among my female friends?' 'Certainly I will,' he replied; 'and I assure you I shall not be so lonesome as you imagine.' With this the husband went out, and was soon among his friends. He was a steady industrious man, and loved his wife truly; but, like thousands of others, he had contracted a habit of spending his evenings abroad, and he thought it no harm. His only practical idea of home seemed to be, that it was a place which his wife took care of, and where he could eat, drink, and sleep, as long as he could pay for it. In short, he treated it as a sort of private boarding-house, of which his wife was landlady; and if he paid all the bills he considered his duty done. His wife had frequently asked him to stay at home with her, but she had never ventured upon any argument before, and he had no conception of how much she missed him. She always seemed happy when he came home, and he supposed she could always be so. Monday evening came, and George Wilson remained true to his promise. His wife put on her bonnet and shawl, and he said he would remain and keep house." 'What will you do while I am gone?' Emma asked. 'Oh, I shall read and sing, and enjoy myself generally.' Very well,' said Emma. I shall be back early.' The wife went out, and the husband was left alone. He had an interesting book, and he began to read it. He read till eight o'clock, and then he began to yawn, and look frequently at the clock. The book did not interest him as usual. Ever and anon he would come to a passage which he knew would please his wife, and instinctively turned as though he would read it aloud; but there was no wife to hear it. At half-past eight he rose from his chair, and began to pace the floor and whistle. Then he went and got his flute, and played several of his favourite airs. After this he got a chess-board, and played a game with an imaginary partner. Then he walked the floor and whistled again. Finally, the clock struck nine, and his wife returned. |