TRUST IN THE SAVIOUR.

IF ever on earth the visions of heaven,
Of glory and beauty, to mortals are given,
'Tis when on the wings of devotion we soar,
And trust in the Saviour we humbly adore.

Though faint be the ray that first breaks from above,
Its smile is the brightness of peace and of love,-
The pledge and the promise of glory to come,
When the soul shall be welcomed at last to its home.

A TALK WITH JOHN.

CHAPTER IV.

FOR THE LITTLE CHILDREN.

"Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not."

COME, little John, come and sit with me; I want to tell you something. I am not going to tell you a story, but only to give you some advice. It is not to amuse you, but to teach you your duty. Some boys do not want to know what their duty is, for if they knew they would not do it. But I suppose you wish to know; listen then attentively to what I have written here. Your mother, or perhaps your older brother or sister, will read it to you.

Did you ever think what it is to pray? In family prayer, you all assemble in the parlour, and after reading the Bible you kneel down, and your father talks aloud; he seems to be speaking to some one; who is it that he is talking with? It is not with you or your mother. Who is he speaking to? I once heard of a little girl whose parents were poor and bad people. They never sent her to school, not even to the Sabbath school; and she grew up a wicked girl, entirely ignorant of religion. When she was about fourteen years old she went to live in the family of a pious woman. The morning after she went to this family, just before breakfast, one of the little children came

running into the kitchen, saying, "Susan, Papa wants you to come to prayer." Susan did not know what was meant by prayer, but knew that they wanted her to go in; so she followed the little boy into the parlour. The family were all seated round the room, still and quiet. The father read one of the Psalms in a serious and attentive manner; they then all kneeled down; and the father asked God to bless the whole family. Susan afterwards said, in describing this scene, that "he talked to the wall," and soon after asked the lady, what he was talking there for so long. She did not know what it meant; but the lady explained it all to her.

Now I do not suppose you are as ignorant as Susan was; you know what family prayer is for, but still I know a great many children who feel and act during the morning and evening prayer of the family as they might properly do if the father was doing nothing more than talking to the wall.

I suppose you know what prayer is. It is simply asking things of God. Whether we pray secretly, or in the family, or in public, or on the Sabbath, it is simply asking favours of God. You very frequently ask favours of your father. In the summer you wanted a straw hat because it was hot; you asked your father for money to buy it, and he gave it you. When the winter comes, it will grow cold, and you will want a pair of mittens, and a coat, and perhaps a cap; you will ask your father for them, and if he thinks it best, he will get them for you. It is just so in prayer to God. We ask favours of him. When Jesus was here on earth, he taught us how to pray; he said we should look to God as our Father in heaven; and mong other things that we were to pray for, he

said we should ask him to " give us this day our daily bread." There, you see, we are to ask blessings from God. We are to ask him for those things that are necessary for our comfort.

The reason why your father prays is, he wants God to bless him,-to bless you-to bless the whole family. He knows that it is proper to ask God to do it; so every day, you all come together in the parlour, and he asks God for those things that he wants. Now how should you behave at that time? How should your little brother act?

I recollect once I was in a house where there was a boy about two years old. When the family came together for prayer, the mother told the boy to sit still upon the stool; he sat down, but began to stamp upon the floor with his feet, and strike the chairs with a whip which he had in his hand. His father began to read, his mother whispered to him to be quiet; but he paid no attention to them. Presently, just as they were kneeling, the cat came into the room; up jumped the boy, ran whipping the cat all about the floor and out into the entry. He disturbed the family very much; we could hardly hear his father speak.

On another occasion, when I attended family prayer, there was a boy of about the same age, but very different from the one I have just mentioned. He sat close by my side on a stool, holding a picture-book in his hand. He was very still while his father was reading; and when they kneeled, he did just as the others did; he put his hands upon the stool and his face down upon his hands, and remained so while his father was praying, only moving his head and his knees a little as he got tired. And so it was with all the others; every one was still and quiet while praying to God.

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Now you see at once which boy conducted himself most properly, and which family prayed to God in the most acceptable manner. And so it should always be. Whenever we worship God we should be still and quiet, serious and attentive. It is very

plain that it ought to be so, and whenever we are present where God is so worshipped, we are pleased with the regularity and order.

I once heard a gentleman speak of a visit to one of the benevolent institutions near Boston; I think it was the House of Reformation, in South Boston. He was very much pleased with all he saw, but spoke particularly of the religious exercises; he was pleased with the regularity and order that were then observed. There were a large number of boys, who were seated in rows upon benches. When the moment for prayer came, they together rose, kneeled, and rested their heads upon the benches, while the superintendent offered up a simple prayer for them. The gentleman was struck with the seriousness and attention which was apparent, and he wondered that all should be so orderly. He supposed that there would, at least, be one or two, who would look about and see what was doing; but, instead of this, every boy had his head down, and seemed very attentive. But just as he was thinking thus, one boy raised his head and looked around at him. Now it was very evident that he was not joining in the prayer, and even this single instance of disorder did a great deal to injure the serious and solemn effect of the scene.

If you wish then, John, to do your duty, take care to be always quiet, and still and attentive at prayer.

But it is not enough to be still and in order