and turning towards a dark part of the barn, a gush of grief burst forth, and betrayed itself, rolling down the cheeks of the poor and pious, yet despised thrasher. But although B- had turned aside, and endeavoured to hide his tears by hastily wiping them away with the rough sleeve of his smock frock, K-- saw the big round tear glistening in his fellow-labourer's eye, who silently but thoughtfully soon resumed his work, by diligently plying with his flail the corn which lay spread out on the thrashing floor.

That tear, by the over-ruling power of God, did more than all the sermons he had heard under the elm tree, or all the kind and truly christian expostulations of his associate in labour. That tear subdued his heart. He melted into tenderness and godly sorrow for his past sins. From that moment he considered. "What," thought he, "shall John B shed tears on my account, and yet I have never shed one tear about my soul's concern ?"

After much inward conflict, he obtained joy and peace in believing. He began soon to love the minister, and the people, whom before he as heartily despised.

CHRIST IN THE STORM.

One dark stormy night we were tossing in a rude little native boat, near the coast of Ceylon. As I lay on my low bed in the bottom of the boat, and saw the red flashes of lightning through the thatched covering, and heard the rapid peals of thunder, while the rain was pouring in on all sides, and our boat tossing like a bubble on the angry waves, I could not but think of our danger, for I knew that the native boatmen were timid and ignorant, and that many such

little barks go down every year on that coast. Trembling and afraid, I raised my head to catch the words of my companion, as he enquired for the master of the boat. "He is in the hinder part of the ship asleep," was the reply.

Little did the rude heathen who uttered these simple words know how they made my soul thrill. In a moment I was carried back to that night when Jesus, perhaps in just such a rude little boat as ours, lay tossing on the stormy lake of Gennesareth. Never did I so realise that our blessed Saviour was once a man, a suffering mortal, and one with us in nature.

Far from home and kindred, weak, helpless, and full of fear, for a moment I had forgotten that Jesus was just as near to us as he was to those fearing disciples, and that he could as easily say to the foaming billows about us, "Peace, be still," as he did on that night when they cried, "Master, carest thou not that we perish ?"

My fears were gone. I felt that Jesus was near, that I could almost put my hand in his, and hear his voice, "It is I; be not afraid." Often since then, in hours of darkness and trial, have I lived over that night, and been comforted by the same sweet thoughts.

Afflicted, sorrowing child of God, forget not Him who was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Do heavy burdens press you down? fear not to carry them all to Jesus. None are too heavy for him to bear, none so small as to be beneath his notice. In him all fulness dwells. Are we poor? he is rich. Are we weak? he is strong. Are we sinful and unworthy? he is righteous and infinitely worthy. If we are Christ's, then he is ours, and in him we are complete.

"This morning, before going to meet with my Bible class, the letter of my christian brother, Mr., was handed to me, containing the melancholy tidings of your dear husband's death. But why do I say 'melancholy,' for I can truly say of him, as was said of Barnabas, He was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost and of faith '? I always regarded him with much esteem, knowing him to be a lover of truth, and believing him to be under the influence of saving grace. I am greatly rejoiced to think that he was able to bear testimony to the lovingkindness of Jesus in his last illness, and that he died in the hope of a glorious immortality, through the merits of his crucified and risen Lord. To you this must be a source of consolation in your bereavement. You must not grieve as those who have no hope. You cannot but feel the loss deeply, and I do not ask you to dry up the fountain of your tears; but I do ask you to wipe them away with the promises of God, and bless Him while you weep. Singularly enough, my text this evening was, 'Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' I was led to speak of bereavements just like your own, and you may be sure I thought of you.

"Look at the picture of a christian,-it is that of trust. Look at the object of this trust,-it is God. Look at the strength of it, though he slay me.'

"I do not need to point you to the fountain of consolation,-you have been there already, and you know the way back. It is well if trials make us thirst after its waters. I do not make light of your loss; it is a heavy loss; you have a bitter cup to drink; but throw in a promise of God, and it will make it sweet. There never was a March-well that the christian could not

sweeten with a promise,-there never was

a dungeon so deep that the cords of God's love could not fathom it to bring up the believer, there never was a prison so dark that faith could not see the light of God's countenance, there never was a bereavement so desolating as to cut off this precious verse: 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.' The fire of flint is brought out by the touch of steel, and the brightness of faith is brought out by the touch of trouble. You have lost a friend,-remember the Friend who is born for adversity,-remember the grace that helps in time of need. Earthly ties must be severed; it cannot be otherwise; there is but one tie that never will be broken: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?' There is but one fountain that is never sealed, fountain of love in the heart of God. There is but one river that never will dry,the river of life. There is but one Friend that will never die: 'I am he that liveth and was dead, yea, and am alive for evermore.' But these are truths which have been long familiar to you, and I trust you are now able to take from them that comfort which they are calculated to afford.

the

Though I am not now your minister, I still feel a personal interest in all your concerns, and the little congregation of is still in my memory and heart. I trust I may be permitted at some future time to break, were it but once more, among you the bread of life,-bread which I know many there love to feed upon. It would, indeed, grieve me to notice some blanks in the pews. I would miss your husband's earnest and attentive face. He used to listen to every sermon as though it were his last. He is now gone, and sermons to him have been exchanged for songs. bless you.

God

"Believe me, my dear christian friend, "Yours in much sympathy and love,

PRAYER.

"We haven't said our prayers, mother." "Never mind, dear, I'll hear them in the morning."

"Please to hear me say mine, mamma!" The earnest pleading tones in which these words were uttered, made the mother hesitate for a minute before she replied, "You

66

know mamma's in a hurry, dear. There's company in the parlour, but she'll hear it in the morning." And with a kiss, and a look of unutterable fondness bestowed upon each of her little boys, the young, beautiful, loving, but careless, thoughtless mother descended to the parlour, leaving the door ajar, so that if the little ones should call for anything, they could be the more

Some ten minutes elapsed, when again a slight movement was heard, which showed that the little fellow was creeping back into bed. "Oh, how cold you are, Willie !" was the exclamation, as his feet touched his brother's.

"I do not mind it, brother, I am so happy. I wish you had prayed too; but I asked God to take care of you too, to-night, and I think he will. Brother, if I should die to-night, I would not be afraid. I don't think it's hard to die."

"I do. I never want to die, and leave pa and ma."

"I would be willing to leave ma and pa, to live with God in heaven, and be always happy, and always good. Wouldn't you?"

"No! I think that it is a great deal pleasanter here. I don't believe that they have any kites or tops in heaven."

"But you know nursie says that the little angels have crowns of gold on their heads, and harps in their hands, and that they play such beautiful music on them, and

sing such pretty hymns. Oh, I'd like to be in heaven with them!"

"I would rather spin my top, than play tunes on a harp."

"But it isn't like playing common tuues ; it is praising God. Oh, brother, if you would only pray, you would love to praise Him! I do not mean just to say your prayers after mother or nursie, although it is very pleasant to have them teach us pretty ones. But I mean to ask God for whatever you want, just as you do ma and pa, and to coax him to make you good. Oh, how I wish mamma, papa, and you, would learn to pray so!"

"Where is nursie, mother? she has not been in our room this morning."

"Then she did not get home last night; she said that if her sister was worse she would stay all night with her. But where is Willie ?"

"He is asleep yet; I spoke to him, but he did not wake."

"Then I will keep some breakfast warm for him, and we will let him sleep as long as he will. I do not think that Willie is well; did you notice, dear," continued the mother, turning to her husband, "how heavy his eyes looked yesterday? But when I asked him if he was sick, he answered in his usual gentle way, Only a headache, mamma, don't be worried.'"

"I did not observe that he looked ill," was the reply. "But if he does not appear well to-day, you had better send for the physician."

"Oh, I had such a funny dream last night about Willie and I!" exclaimed little Frank.

"What was it, my boy?" asked his father, willing to be amused with the prattle of his child.

"Well, after mamma left us last night, the light was blown out, and Willie wanted me to get up in the cold and dark with him to say our prayers, and I wouldn't, because mamma said that we needn't say them till morning, and I thought she knew best. But Willie got up and said his, and when he came to bed again he was so cold that it made me shiver all over to touch him. But he said that he didn't mind it, he was so happy, and he talked a great deal about dying, and about the angels in heaven, until I fell asleep, and it was that which made me dream, I suppose, for I thought Willie and I went to bed just as we had done, and

that he said his prayers, and that I wouldn't say mine. But I thought that the window was raised, and that the shutters were wide open, so that I lay on the bed looking up in the sky, and thinking how beautiful the moon and stars looked, when I saw away up in the heavens, further up than the stars are, two shadows moving that looked like two pale white clouds; but they kept floating down until they reached the lowest star, and then I saw that they were angels; but they looked so small at such a distance that I thought them baby-angels, but as they came nearer and nearer, they grew larger, and when they floated through the window into our room, they looked like two very lovely ladies, with crowns on their brows, like Willie told of. But one seemed rather younger than the other, and she appeared to look up to the other angel as if to be guided by her. But, oh, such beautiful voices as they had! When they spoke it sounded even sweeter than the church organ when it is played very soft and low. "When they came towards our bed, Willie smiled, and stretched out his arms to go to them; but I was frightened, and covered my face with the bed clothes. 1 was afraid that they would take me away with them, and I remembered that I had refused to pray, so I did not want to be taken where God was. Then I heard one of those beautiful voices ask, 'Are we to take both ?' Oh, such music as was made when they talked! All around our room it floated, sweeter than the soft, low carol of a bird; and I heard the answer, 'No, only the one that prayed! We are to leave the other one a little while longer upon the earth, in hopes that he too may learn to pray, before we carry him before the Great Hearer of prayer.' Then they came close to me, and I trembled dreadfully, and my heart beat so that I could scarcely breathe; and they uncovered my face, and looked at me, but I did not dare to open my eyes to look at them; by and bye I felt a big tear fall on my cheek. Oh, mamma, how grieved I was then to think that I had made the angels weep, how sorry I was that I had not prayed; for I now thought that I would so much rather have crowns like they wore, and be as good and as lovely as they, and have God love me, than to have all the kites, and tops, and marbles,

that are in the whole world! But they passed away from me, and went to the other side of the bed, and then I opened my eyes to watch them, and they both smiled on Willie; and when they smiled their whole faces grew bright, until they shone like the sun; then they stooped down and kissed Willie, and he smiled too; and I saw that his face was shining like theirs; and he stretched out his little arms again, and the taller angel lifted him from the bed, and laid him in the bosom of the younger one, who hugged him close to her, as though she loved him very much. Then the other angel twined her arms around both, and they all three floated through the air, until they sailed past all the stars, and became like pale white clouds that grew smaller and smaller, until they were nothing but little specks, and I saw them no more! For a long time I lay very still, looking up into the bright sky, hoping to see them come again, and bring Willie back. But when I found that they came no more, oh, I was so lonesome! I cried so hard; and when I looked at little Willie's place in bed, and thought that he would never lie there again, and that I must always sleep alone, and have no little brother to play with or talk to, I thought my heart would break! But when this morning came, and I awoke and found little Willie in bed with me, I was so glad and happy! His eyes were only half closed, that made me think at first that he was awake; and his lips were parted with that same sweet smile that he wore last night when the angels looked at him, which made him seem so like one of them, that it made me feel strangely again, so that I could not speak aloud, but whispered softly, 'Willie Willie!' but it did not wake him; then I laid my hand on him very gently, but he was so cold that it made me start; so when I found that he did not get warm all night, I put the bed-clothes tight around him, and did not try to wake him again."

A strange chill crept through the mother's heart as she listened, and, rising from the breakfast-table, she hastened to the children's room. She found her little Willie lying on the bedside, pale, cold, but very beautiful, in that sleep which knows no waking.

NOTES OF THE MONTH.

POLITICAL.

Since the publication of our last number, the chief subject of discussion has been the probability of war with AMERICA. At one time this appeared to be imminent, Mr. Crampton, the British minister, having been dismissed by the President of the United States; but the despatches which announced the dismissal having stated that the difference of the President was wholly with Mr. Crampton and no longer with the English_government, under these circumstances Lord Palmerston wisely determined not to make the difference into a quarrel by dismissing Mr. Dallas. We may hope that, with such moderate counsels, the matters in dispute will be speedily settled. No greater calamity could occur than a war between England and America. It is for the christians of both countries to determine that it shall not be.

The day after the arrival of Mr. Crampton witnessed the return of another of our countrymen to our shores. General Sir WILLIAM WILLIAMS, of Kars, landed at Dover, on Monday, June 16th. Much as we disapprove of war, we cannot fail, any more than the rest of his countrymen, to recog. nise the heroism of this gallant soldier. His deeds have already found a place in the history of the world. Would that his joy had not been mingled with sorrow, through the death of one of his companions in suffering and in bravery! But the death of Captain Thompson will leave all the more honour to be paid to General Williams and those who survive. England, like Rome, knows how to do honour to those who have deserved her praise.

A terrible inundation has befallen the South of FRANCE. The whole of that district of the country has been literally inundated: life has been lost, an immense amount of property destroyed, and fearful suffering amongst all classes occasioned. The conduct of the Emperor in the midst of the desolation has been characteristic. He has personally visited the scenes of the catastrophe, mixed freely amongst the people, and "with tears in his eyes" administered generous relief to their necessities. We will not believe that all this is done to gain political capital, but assuredly it will do more than thousands of bayonets to support Louis Napoleon on the giddy height to which he has attained.

ITALY still remains unsettled. Stories of despotism and cruelty of a most fearful character fill the newspapers, and there appears to be little disposition to conciliate the peoples, or to yield to the outraged moral feelings of the world. What may be the end it is impossible yet to say!

The topic of greatest domestic interest has been the trial and execution of WILLIAM PALMER. Convicted on what was, to say the least, fearfully strong cir

cumstantial evidence, he was sentenced to death, and, all efforts to obtain a reprieve having failed, he now occupies a murderer's grave in one of the passages of the gaol at Stafford. We trust that one result of the trial will be, to direct attention to the whole question of capital punishment. We are sure that we but utter the wish of many of our readers, when we express the hope that this may be the last execution England will ever see.

ECCLESIASTICAL.

During the month, most of the Associations have held their meetings. We are glad to find from the reports, that in most parts of the country there is decided improvement, both in the rate of increase to the churches, and in the soundness of their spiritual condition. Still much, very much, remains to be done. We trust that the churches everywhere will, labour and pray, that the blessings vouchsafed may be but "droppings before the shower."

The Sunday Band agitation, which had hitherto been confined to the metropolis, appears to be spreading over the whole country. Bands have been commenced on the Lord's-day in several of the large provincial towns, and in several others arrangements are said to be in progress for them. Though we should be the last to discountenance any effort for providing improving amusements for the people at proper times, we cannot but deeply regret this new movement, on account of its probable religious effect. The experiment is likely to be tried on a large scale. full results remain yet to be ascertained.

Its

Prejudice and bigotry have had another victory in the old field of their exploits,the House of Lords. The bill which had been sent up from the Lower House, and which was intended to provide for the admission of Jews into the legislature, has been rejected. Hereditary legislators need yet to be taught, that it is not for them to impede the progress of measures founded on the principles of truth and justice, and which the people of the country have repeatedly declared their determination to carry.

BAPTIST COLLEGE, PONTYPOOL.

Fifty years having passed since the institution at Pontypool for training young ministers of the Baptist denomination was commenced, it was resolved to mark the occasion by some special circumstances, and to combine with the jubilee an expression of esteem to the Rev. Thomas Thomas, the principal, who has occupied that onerous position for twenty years. It appears the committee who conduct the internal affairs of the institution have long felt the want of better accommodation, so as to make room for at least twenty students, - the general number having been fifteen and sixteen, for which purpose it was thought desirable to raise a Jubilee Fund of £1,500.