!'"

a

sister's reproaches, and, asking her forgiveness, encouraged the confidence she seemed so willing to bestow, Fanny would have dropped the light tone and manner, which was so evidently only assumed, to speak more fully, freely, and earnestly of all that was in her heart. But you chilled her in the outset; you checked her awakening confidence; and the chief feeling of which you were sensible while she sat beside you was not one of grateful joy that your once thoughtless sister had begun to seek the one thing 'needful,' but of dissatisfaction because the inner sanctuary of your heart appeared about to be invaded,' and the sacred solitude of your spirit ‘intruded

upon Unable any longer to blind her eyes to the truth, Clara yielded at length to the convictions of conscience, and, deeply humbled, she wept abundantly. What a blessed and never-to-be-forgotten hour that past hour might have been ! Weeping and rejoicing, and taking sweet counsel one with another, the hearts of those two sisters might have been knit together in a holy and happy love, and they should have felt not only that they were sisters by earthly relationship, but members of the same heavenly family, sisters in Christ Jesus !

But now the heart Clara might have touched seemed to have hardened itself against her, and the confidence she might have won was lost, perhaps for ever!

Doubtless, in the overruling Providence of an all-wise God, it was well—it was better that poor Fanny should have been driven from creature dependence to seek alone unto Him for help; but in the last great day, when we shall be called to render an account of the efforts we have made to bring souls unto Jesus, to speak “a word in season ” to those who are weary," to "establish," to "comfort," to “

“” “edify” one another, they will not venture that excuse who have been found unfaithful, “I never was one to talk !"

HY

WY

"Long and faithfully may they wage it; and may the day be very far off when the feeblest shall falter therein, or desire to quit the field."-Charles Gutzlaff.

should ye falter, noble men,

Soldiers of God most High,
Where life hath nothing dear but Christ,

And death is victory?
Why should ye falter, hearts of steel ;

Strong wrestlers for a name
Above the poor rewards of earth,

Its censure or its fame?

Take courage, and right onward bear,

Strong in your Leader's might,
Protected by His glorious arm,

And guided by His light.
All beautiful and clear it shines

Above your toilsome way,
Gilding the battle's waning night

With hope of cloudless day.

Dread foes may gather to molest

Your journey as ye go ;
But ye shall break the listed spear

And snap the bended bow.
Satan's high towers before your strength

Shall crumble into dust,
And hoary superstition flee

The bulwarks of her trust.

125

What though sin’s gloony battlements

Above your onset-frown,
And error from her lofty lieights

Looks menacingly down!
Ye have a might invincible,

A force, at Faith's command, Before which neither pride of man

Nor power of hell may stand.

Ye go to break the prison doors,

To set the captive free;
To visit the oppressed with hope,

The bound with liberty.
Joy to the wretched do ye bring,

And to the wounded balm ;
Strength to the soul o'erthrown by sin,

And conquest's holy palm.

The words of life Divine ye bear

To earth's remotest bound,
Till every land the Lord shall own,

And with His praise resound.
Your feet on every mountain top

Look beauteous from afar,
More lovely than the rise of morn

Or light of midnight star.

Gird on your armour then with strength,

The gospel bánner take, With both hands grasp the two-edged sword,

And strike for Jesus' sake.
Why falter, champions of Christ,

Soldiers of God most High,
When life hath nothing dear but Him,

And death is victory?

Setting out for Heaven.

A SIMPLE STORY.

CHAPTER III.

E take up our story at the point where the two

forlorn and weary wanderers were unexpectedly introduced to a scene of such dazzling splendour

as their unaccustomed eyes had never before rested on; and then our story goes on to say: John and Mary remained trembling in the doorway. John, perfectly amazed, opened his eyes wide, while Mary reverently joined her hands. Was she really in heaven? it could not be more beautiful there. The kind lady looked upon the poor benumbed little orphans with pitying eyes. The song ceased, and the master of the house, rising, drew near the two fugitives and asked, “Who are you ? and what do you want?"

“We want to find heaven,” said Mary, in a low voice; we have come a long way to find it—but is not this it?" she asked, hesitating a little.

“God grant it!" said the gentleman, while the lady drew the children to her. “ Come, my little ones, first of all warm yourselves and take a little food, and then you shall tell me something more." She undid the children's shawls as she said this, and placed them near the fireplace, giving them some tea, and bread and butter, and cake. Johnny, perfectly content, ate with a good appetite, and did not for a moment doubt but that he was in heaven. Mary was not quite so sure; her eyes wandered in search of her mother, and after a time she ventured to ask timidly “if mamma was not there?”

“ Come and tell me about your mamma," said the lady, soothingly, taking Mary on her lap; and while the little one was quietly resting there she told how her mamma was gone to heaven, and had told her she must come there too, and bring Johnny with her; where, after that, they had been living; and how, to-day, they had set off to go to heaven, and wanted to get in over there where it came down so

in a

low; and then how, just when they were so tired they could not go any farther, they had seen the light and been guided by it. “ But are we really in heaven now ? and may we stay here?” she asked as she ended her story;

and where, then, is dear mamma ?”

All had listened with emotion to this touchingly simple story. “God will give you a mamma,” said the lady, low yoice; 'but now you must go to bed. See, your little brother is already fast asleep."

The children willingly allowed themselves to be carried into another room. The lady undressed them and put them both together into a clean bed : Mary would not allow herself to be separated from John. Then the lady kissed them on their foreheads and joined their hands, saying, "You have sought heaven, and you will find it.”

The sound of the solemn music reached them soothingly from the adjoining room, while all the wonders they had seen that evening made them believe they were tasting the joys of heaven while still on earth.

An hour or so later two persons were holding an earnest conversation in the adjoining room. These were the master and mistress of the house, who were discussing what was to be done with the children.

“I know,” said Dr. Neuring, “they are the children of that Mrs. Werner—that stranger who died after having lived here for a short time. My friend, Dr. B-, who went to see her several times, has often spoken of her to me. He did not anticipate her death so soon. The children were afterwards taken to Schlenthal, perhaps even to that woman Sora. I do think she is about the most avaricious woman I know. Have the poor children then no relation left ?"

“Yes, I fancy they have," replied the doctor's wife; " but it seems nobody has troubled themselves about them. Is it not strange that they should have come to us, and that on Christmas Eve, too ?”

“Yes, truly,” said the doctor, “and it is rare nowadays I to meet with any one who is seeking heaven. But I