out hesitation, he goes and sells all that he has, all his other pearls, all his stock in trade, all his property of every kind, and buys it. Thus he gave up all that he had for it, and thought himself happy to gain it even then.

What does the pearl mean? Evidently salvation. For this is the prize of the Gospel, the great blessing of "the kingdom of heaven," the fruit of the coming and sacrifice of Christ. Indeed, Christ Himself may be said to be the Pearl, in the sense in which the apostle Paul says, "But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ... that I may win Christ." It makes little difference whether we consider the pearl to be the Saviour Himself, or the salvation which He wrought out; for to have a part in Christ is to be saved by Him; and this is the "pearl of great price."

The merchantman we may take to mean any person seeking happiness or good for himself. As the merchantman used to go hither and thither, inquiring, seeking, and bargaining, so do people in general seek good for themselves in various ways. Disappointed in one source, they turn to another. Their object is still the same.

Or perhaps we may take him to mean an awakened soul seeking peace. Such a man is not a mere seeker after happiness generally. He has been roused to a sense of religion, his conscience has been touched, he has been led to feel his need. But he has not yet found peace. He is secking, inquiring, using means.

In whichever sense we take the merchantman, it is elear what is meant by his finding the pearl. This represents a man becoming acquainted with salvation by Christ. He may have known the doctrine before; but it never before arrested his attention, or engaged his heart. Perhaps it is now more clearly and forcibly set forth to him, or God's providential dealings have brought him to more seriousness of mind. At all events, the truth now strikes him, and touches his heart. Here the awakened conscience sees just what it wants; here the seeker after happiness finds what he sought. Convinced, impressed, and deeply in earnest, the man parts with all to win Christ. The world is given up, the bosom sin is forsaken, all that stands in the way of his soul is freely sacrificed, self-righteousness is cast away, formal religious observances are trusted in no more. Like Paul," to win Christ, and be found in Him," is now all his desire.

As in the parable of "the Hidden Treasure," so here, there is a difference to be noticed between the parable and its interpretation. The merchant bought the pearl; but we cannot buy salvation. It is a free gift for Christ's sake. The terms are "Without money, and without price." Yet we must be ready to give up all to gain it. The merchantman parted with all that he had, and paid the value of it as the price of the pearl. We, too, must willingly part with all that stands in the way of our salvation, though the price has already been paid, and we can add nothing to it.

Paul, we have seen, did this, and gloried in the choice he had made. But we read of one who, though

he knew of the pearl, and in some degree felt its value, yet could not make up his mind to give up all for it. "Go and sell that thou hast," said our Lord to the rich young man," and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow Me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions." Alas! hearing of the "pearl of great price" is not enough to make a man choose it, and seek it, and give up all to gain it. Numbers hear of it, yet see no value in it. Numbers who do see something desirable in it, yet love the world better. In a Christian land almost all hear of the pearl, but how many are seeking it in truth?

This merchantman is our example; and that in two points: he set the pearl at its right value, and he sought it without delay.

Our pearl is more precious than his; it is worth more than all besides. Let us value it accordingly. Let us remember those solemn words, "What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Let us be like the merchantman, and like the apostle Paul, not like the rich young man. He went away sorrowful. Ah! well he might.

The merchantman, having made up his mind as to the value of the pearl, lost no time in making it his own. It was not safe to hesitate. While he delayed, another might get it before him. He "went and sold all that he had, and bought it."

Time is precious with us too. It is not safe to delay. The pearl may be ours now; but if we now neglect to secure it, it will one day be out of our reach. None can tell how much longer the Gospel invitation may be made to him; but this is certain, that he who is hearing it continually and yet putting off accepting it is in awful danger. He is trifling with God, and provoking Him to cut short his opportunity. The only time for securing the pearl is now; the only time in which God makes the offer, the only time that we are sure of having. Delay may cost us the loss of the pearl, a loss never to be repaired. "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation,"

GOOD AND BAD BOOKS.

EWARE of bad books. They are traitors in the household. They are "the enemy" who snatches away the wheat, and sows tares in its stead. stead. They are poisoned sweets, destroying the healthy appetite. They have the semblance of knowledge, but not the reality. They are blind guides that lead to the ditch.

Are we known by the company we keep? Our books are our company. In reading the works of an author, our minds come in direct contact with his mind. For good or for evil we are under his most direct influence. It has been well said that we reflect the colour of the rock upon which we lean; and it is When Moses came down from the mount, after talking with God, how his face shone !

So.

Be jealous, then, of the books you read. Weigh them in the balances of the sanctuary, and if found wanting, discard them from their place in your libraries, homes, and hearts.

A clergyman of New York once visited a state prison, where a young man who had thrown away many advantages was confined for the crime of murder, and was there awaiting his trial. His shelves were lined with books. What kind of books were they? Bibles, tracts, histories, works of science and true taste? No; corrupt novels and licentious poetry revealed the rock which had imparted its colour to the criminal's life and character. Let the young avoid bad books as they would bad people.

Bad books may be the favourites of public libraries, and private ones too, but they must not be our

must most care

fully avoid all tampering with them, as if there was poison in their very touch, and say, "O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united."

But let us turn to a far pleasanter subject namely,

good books. Who shall estimate at their true value and worth these wonderful agents for truth and righteousness? How many thousands owe all they possess in this world, and all they hope to enjoy hereafter, to the blessings attending the reading of these messengers of good! The following in

teresting and instructive incident will show one way of using good books.

George III., when at Windsor, often used to converse on religious subjects with Mr. Saunders, his old coachman, who had entered the royal service under George II. Saunders was a truly pious man. He was a member of the church of which Mr. Redford was afterwards pastor, and also had to do with the formation of a religious society at Kensington, still in existence as a Congregational Church in Allen Street. The king had a real regard for Saunders-as he had for any of his old servants whom he thought religious.

On one occasion, either by accident or design, Saunders left some religious tracts in the royal carriage. The King pulled them from under the cushion, and during the drive was observed attentively reading them. He desired the coachman to put more of the same description in the same place. These also were carefully perused, and a packet of them was afterwards found among the King's papers. When the old servant, through infirmity, was obliged to retire from his post, the King expressed hearty regret. Saunders spent

his last years at Kensington, and when his royal master saw him there on his way from London to Windsor, he would take special and kindly notice of the highly-privileged tract distributor.