as they could desire. They took advantage of this change to write Madame Mandar. They carefully avoided speaking of their evil daysthat would have been humiliating; and, besides, what good could it do, seeing they had already forgotten them, and those times would never return? They enlarged on their present prosperity, and even exaggerated a little, to render the triumph more complete. Charles would now see that Philip was right, and he was

wrong.

Gradually comfort was restored in their household. They bought back the desk and chairs which had " encumbered" the apartment. Philip bought some new clothes, as he said that his employer and fellow clerks might respect him. Marie, too, thought she ought to dress conformably to the rank of her husband, and could not do without a silk dress and fashionable mantle. Philip, who was the whole day without eating, came home in the evening with a ferocious appetite, which required a tolerably good table to be kept, and, little at a time, luxuries-those superfluous necessities-re-entered the house.

These did not come back alone. In the time of distress they resolved to renounce for ever all costly pleasures, and to restrict their relaxation to an evening walk in the Champs Elysées, or elsewhere. When, however, it became known that their position was improved, and a bright future was before them, their former friends came back, who urged on Monsieur Henri that, in his altered circumstances, and "with his prospects," he ought to indulge a little, to keep his spirits up to his work; for what had he to fear, now that the ball was at his foot?" He thought so too, and went with them to the theatre.

More than two hundred francs was necessary to cover these expenses, it is true, but Marie earned something; and then they began to have things on credit, and no longer to settle in cash-it was so troublesome to take money in hand for every paltry article, and seemed as if no one knew them, or would trust

them. Besides, there was, beyond all this, his prospects for the future.

To speak frankly, from the very first week of ease in their circumstances, Marie had proposed to put fifteen francs in the savings-bank every Monday. Somehow, Philip had hitherto found employment for this amount every succeeding Monday, but the practice was only deferred for a short time, and then there would always be a nice sum in the savings' bank for any emergency.

If trouble awakens the conscience, too often success hushes it asleep. Philip's conscience now said nothing more to him, and Marie's did not speak as formerly. In her hours of distress she frequently prayed, and read the Scriptures; now, if she uttered a prayer, it was an act of memory, and, if she opened the Gospel, two or three verses hastily scanned sufficed for her devotion. They necessarily saw little of each other during the day, and when they met in the evenings they formed plans for amusement; and this neglect of the duties of life, and pursuit of pleasurable excitement, they called happiness; and, to secure this uninterruptedly, they sought the possession of wealth, in common with the majority of mankind.

WHOLLY THE LORD'S.
"'Tis done! the great transaction's done!
I am my Lord's, and he is mine;
He drew me, and I followed on,
Charmed to confess the voice Divine.
Now rest, my long divided heart,
Fixed on this blissful centre, rest;
Nor ever from the Lord depart,

With him, of every good possessed."

SAFE in the arms of Jesus-hid in the cleft of the smitten Rock! Blessed state of conscious security, a prelude to that eternal rest which remains for the Christian when the toils of life are past.

We are presuming, dear reader, that you have entered the "highway of holiness cast up for the redeemed," and can say, with John, "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth me from all sin." From your heart, full of the love of God, there oft arises such

songs (expressive of deep joy in God) as the following:

"The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;
Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope do grow."

You are now bound for the land of Canaan, and are safely seated in the bark of perfect love. Your sails are fairly set to catch the gentle breeze; the sea calm and tranquil, the sky clear, the air salubrious; everything combines to promise you a pleasant and prosperous voyage. You dream not of adverse winds to toss your bark to and fro. You expect not even an angry ripple to disturb the calm surface, but you think to ride onward till you enter the port of endless bliss. Would that you could remain undeceived! but this is impossible. Sooner or later the tempest will arise, the sky gather darkness, the winds blow, and the sea roar. At the outset, then, of your religious career, will you allow one who loves you to offer a word of advice that may enable you, by God's blessing, to sail more safely over this tempestuous sea?

You may, my beloved reader, always enjoy your heaven-bought privilege of living free from sin; but there are many things besides sin that will damp your spiritual joy. The first gush of rapturous emotion may subside, or the sacred peacewhich is generally enjoyed on receiving the blessing of perfect love— may be deadened, and you may not be able to ascertain the cause. Then the enemy may suggest that you have lost the blessing; and by your yielding to the suggestion, you would lose it. Errors in judgment you will undoubtedly commit: these, however, are not sins in themselves. Here he will again meet you, 66 transformed into an angel of light," and accuse you of breaking God's commandments. Debate not with him, but fly to the atoning blood, plunge afresh therein, and you will become whiter than snow, whether Satan's accusations were true or false..

Another error, equally fatal, against which we would warn you is, that when, in order to obtain the blessing

of perfect peace, you have consecrated your all to God, you may remove part of the sacrifice from the altar of consecration. At once you will perceive that God's smiling face is turned from you. You go, as before, to the blood that cleanseth, but it appears to have lost its efficacy for no peace comes to your troubled soul. The altar sanctifieth the gift, and now that part of the sacrifice is removed, the whole cannot be sanctified. Again the enemy, ever on the alert, is by your side. He whispers in your ear that God is just trying your faith, and, to prove the assertion, quotes Scripture, like the following:-"The just shall live by faith;"" Only believe;""He that walketh in darkness, and hath no light, let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." But this he does to prevent you looking into your heart, in order to ascertain if aught has been removed from the altar. You know you are a child of God, but you are not secretly happy. Your heart is lifted to heaven, while perchance you pensively sing the prayer—

"Lift up thy countenance serene,
And let thy happy child
Behold, without a cloud between,
The Godhead reconciled."

Still, the cloud remains. The only apparent change is, that it becomes darker and thicker. Now you ask, "What am I to do?" The answer is easy. "Enter into thy closet," determine there to remain, so far as your lawful calling will permit, till the matter be settled between yourself and God. Ask him to show you what prevents your enjoying that sweet communion with him that you once did? Be assured, in due time the idol will be made manifest. Then, whatever it be, renounce it utterly, and thank God that you are undeceived. Be not in haste to leave the hallowed spot; still tarry, and you will realize how true the promise, "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength." You are safe so long as you keep all upon the altar, though joyous emotion be denied.

It is sufficient if the "Spirit bear

witness with your spirit" that you are "wholly the Lord's." Seek a fresh evidence of your acceptance every time you approach the mercy-seat.

In order to retain the blessing, you must profess it. The enemy will doubtless suggest that you had better wait and see if you can keep the blessing, or live worthy of making such a profession, lest a stigma be brought on the cause of God in consequence. Your heart may readily acquiesce in this suggestion, as the cross appears formidable. Do not, however, stop to parley with the arch enemy; hesitate not a moment; rise at once, when an opportunity offers, though your feet seem fastened to the floor, and your whole frame convulsed with emotion.

Work for God; "be instant, in season and out of season," that souls may be saved. Discharge every duty. The neglect of one opens the way for the neglect of others, as the commission of one sin prepares the way the commission of another.

for

Frequently and prayerfully read the word of God. Not only read it, but meditate upon it. Explore this mine of truth, for the deeper you dig, the richer the ore. Let your cry be,

"Unlock the truth, thyself the key,
Unseal the sacred book."

And, to sum up all, be much in your closet; if remiss here, your advancement in the Divine life will be slow, and your attainments meagre. Never give yourself a moment's rest without the witness that you are "wholly the Lord's." "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies, a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service."

PLANTS AND THEIR SEEDS.

BY PROFESSOR GAUSSEN.

HAVE you ever considered how wonderful a thing the seed of a plant is? It is the miracle of miracles. God said, "Let there be plants yielding seed;" and further it is added, "each one after his kind."

The great naturalist, Cuvier, thought that the germs of all past, present, and future generations of

seeds were contained one within the other, as if packed in a succession of boxes. Other learned men have explained this mystery in a different way. But what signify all their explanations? Let them explain it as they will, the wonder remains the same, and we must look upon the reproduction of the seed as a continual miracle.

Is there upon earth a machine, is there a palace, is there even a city, which contains so much that is wonderful as is enclosed in one single little seed-one grain of corn, one little brown apple-seed, one small seed of a tree, picked up, perhaps, by a bird for its little ones; the smallest seed of a poppy or a bluebell, or even one of the seeds that are so small that they float about in the air invisible to our eyes? Ah! there is a world of marvel and brilliant beauties hidden in each of these tiny seeds. Consider their immense number, the perfect separation of the different kinds, and their power of life and resurrection.

Consider first their number. About a hundred and fifty years ago the celebrated Linnæus, who has been called the "father of botany," reckoned about 8,000 different kinds of plants; and he then thought that the whole number existing could not much exceed 10,000. But, a hundred years after him, M. de Candolle described 40,000 kinds of plants; and he supposed it possible that the number might even amount to 100,000.

Well, let me ask you, have these 100,000 kinds of plants ever failed to bear the right seed? Have they ever deceived us? Has a seed of wheat ever yielded barley, or a seed of poppy grown up into a sunflower? Has a sycamore-tree ever sprung from an acorn, or a beech-tree from a chestnut? A little bird may carry away the small seed of a sycamore in its beak to feed its nestlings, and on the way may drop it on the ground. The tiny seed may spring up and grow where it fell, unnoticed; and in sixty years it may become a magnificent tree, under which the flocks of the valley and their shepherds may rest in the shade.

Consider, next, the wonderful power of life and resurrection bestowed on the seeds of plants, so that they may be preserved from year to year, and even from century to century.

Let a child put a few seeds in a drawer, and shut them up; and sixty years afterwards, when his hair is white and his step tottering, let him take one of these seeds and sow it in the ground, and soon after he will see it spring up into new life, and become a young, fresh, and beautiful plant.

M. Jouannet relates, that in the year 1835, several old Celtic tombs were discovered near Bergerac. Under the head of each of the dead bodies there was found a small, square stone or brick, with a hole in it, containing a few seeds, which had been placed there beside the dead by the heathen friends who had buried them, perhaps fifteen or seventeen hundred years before. These seeds were carefully sown by those who found them; and what do you think was seen to spring up from this dust of the dead? Beautiful sun-flowers, blue corn-flowers, and clover, bearing blossoms as bright and sweet as those which are woven into wreaths by the merry children now playing in our fields.

Some years ago a vase, hermetically sealed, was found in a mummy-pit in Egypt, by the English traveller Wilkinson, who sent it to the British Museum. The librarian there, having unfortunately broken it, discovered in it a few grains of wheat, and one or two peas, old, wrinkled, and as hard as stone. The peas were planted carefully under glass on the 4th of June, 1844; and, at the end of thirty days, these old seeds were seen to, spring up into new life. They had been buried, probably, about three thousand years ago (perhaps in the time of Moses), and had slept all that long time, apparently dead, yet still living in the dust of the tomb.

FIDELITY TO GOD REWARDED;

OR, WILLIAM REED, THE BARBER. OBEDIENCE to the law of God, as a general fact, secures a present as well

as a future reward. Present loss may indeed be sustained by it sometimes; but let the sufferer still trust in God, and he will find, in the end, that his confidence will not be disappointed. The following is a beautiful illustration of this doctrine:

In the city of Bath, not many years since, lived a barber, who made a practice of following his ordinary occupation on the Lord's day. As he was pursuing his morning's employment, he happened to look into some place of worship just as the minister was giving out his text, "Remember the Sabbath - day, to keep it holy." He listened long enough to be convinced that he was constantly breaking the laws of God and man, by shaving and dressing his customers on the Lord's day. He became uneasy, and went with a heavy heart to his Sabbath task.

At length he took courage, and opened his heart to the minister, who advised him to give up Sabbath dressing, and worship God. He replied that beggary would be the consequence. He had a flourishing trade, but it would almost all be lost. At length, after many a sleepless night spent in weeping and praying, he was determined to cast all his care upon God, as the more he reflected, the more his duty became apparent.

He discontinued Sunday dressing, went constantly and early to the public services of religion, and soon enjoyed that satisfaction of mind which is one of the rewards of doing our duty, and that peace of God which the world can neither give nor take away. The consequences he foresaw actually followed. His genteel customers left him, and he was nicknamed a Puritan, or Methodist. He was obliged to give up his fashionable shop, and, in the course of years, became so reduced as to take a cellar under the old market-house, and shave the common people.

On Saturday evening, between light and dark, a stranger from one of the coaches, asking for a barber, was directed by the hostler to the cellar opposite. Coming in hastily, he requested to be shaved quickly,

while they changed horses, as he did not like to violate the Sabbath. This was touching the barber on a tender chord. He burst into tears, and asked the stranger to lend him a halfpenny to buy a candle, as it was not light enough to shave him with safety. He did so, revolving in his mind the extreme poverty to which the poor man must be reduced. When shaved, he said, "There must be something extraordinary in your history, which I have not time to hear. Here is half-a-crown for you. When I return, I will call and investigate your case. What is your name?"-" William Reed," said the astonished barber. "William Reed!" echoed the stranger, "William Reed! by your dialect, you are from the west?"-"Yes, sir; from Kingston, near Taunton!" "What was your father's name?"-"Thomas." "Had he any brother?"—"Yes, sir: one, after whom I was named; but he went to the Indies, and, as we never heard from him, we supposed him dead."

"Come along-follow me!" said the stranger. "I am going to see a person who says his name is William Reed, of Kingston, near Taunton. Come, and confront him. If you prove to be indeed he whom you say you are, I have glorious news for you. Your uncle is dead, and has left an immense fortune, which I will put you in possession of when all legal doubts are removed."

They went by the coach, saw the pretended William Reed, and proved him to be an impostor. The stranger, who was a pious attorney, was soon legally satisfied of the barber's identity, and told him that he advertised him in vain. Providence had now thrown him in his way in a most extraordinary manner, and he had great pleasure in transferring a great many thousand pounds to a worthy man, the rightful heir of the property.

Thus was man's extremity God's opportunity. Had the poor barber possessed one halfpenny, or even had credit for a candle, he might have remained unknown for years; but he trusted in God, who never said, "Seek ye my face in vain."

RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.

BY THE REV. ROBERT HALL.

IF the mere conception of the reunion of good men, in a future state, infused a momentary rapture into the mind of Tully; if an airy speculation-for there is reason to fear it had little hold on his convictionscould inspire him with such delight, what may we be expected to feel, who are assured of such an event by "the true saying of God?" How should we rejoice in the prospect, the certainty, rather, of spending a blissful eternity with those whom we loved on earth; of seeing them emerge from the ruins of the tomb, and the deeper ruins of the fall, not only uninjured, but refined and perfected, "with every tear wiped from their eyes," standing before the throne of God and the Lamb, " in white robes, and palms in their hands, crying with a loud voice, Salvation to God, that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever!" What delight will it afford to renew the sweet counsel we have taken together, to recount the toils of combat and the labour of the way, and to approach not the house, but the throne of God, in company, in order to join the symphony of heavenly voices, and lose ourselves amid the splendours and fruitions of the beatific vision!

"CHILDREN, WHEN I AM DEAD, SING!" SUCH were the dying words of Mrs. Wesley: "Children, when I am dead, sing a song of praise to God."

How pleasant it is to meditate on the last words of such Christians! We love to recall the jubilant testimony of Janeway, and the almost celestial utterances of Payson. The thrice-repeated exclamation of Gordon Hall, in the last spasms of Asiatic cholera, "Glory to thee, O God!"- the sublime language of Luther, "Father, into thy hands do I commend my spirit; thou hast redeemed me, thou faithful God!"the memorable words of the younger Adams, "This is the last of earth; I am content "—the beautiful thoughts