If few work, so much the more reason for our exertions that the interests of the church be not utterly abandoned. If the impenitent around us be hardened and careless of their souls, so much the more reason that we should strive to arouse them, lest they perish for ever. Though the church seem cold and dead as the body of Jesus in the midnight tomb of Joseph, if we have any grace left, we should prepare and bring it, as these women did their spices, to preserve it from utter corruption. When the Lord comes, as he certainly will, in his reviving power, happy will they be whom he finds so watching. They shall see him first, first hear his cheering words, and be the bearers of the good news first to those that sit in darkness.

Neither let us shrink and fail, because those higher in office or of greater natural ability are remiss or discouraged. While the apostles were hidden in their homes, disconsolate and idle, the women were successfully seeking their Lord. Mary Magdalene carried the first tidings to the earnest Peter and the loving John; and the other women to the other nine. Peter ran hard, and John faster, but Mary Magdalene first saw the risen Jesus. Thus ever is faithful weakness made

exulting strength.

Happy women!

Would that we had your love, your courage, and your zeal! Then should we have a rich share in your reward.

THE SISTER OF LAZARUS.

SAMUEL D. PATTERSON.

"The master is come, and calleth for thee."— JOHN xi. 28.

A SISTER in anguish lamented the loved,

And tears of affliction streamed fast from her eyes As she bowed 'neath the rod of the chastener, and proved That those blessings fly first which most fondly we prize. She mused on his virtues, his kindness, his truth;

On the love that was borne her, so fervent and high, By the playmate of childhood, companion of youth,

Thus called, in the fresh bloom of vigour, to die! And her burdened heart sunk in the darkness of woe, As the fond sister mourned for the cherished laid low.

But listen! a voice by the mourner is heard,

Whose tones send the music of peace to her soul,The loud sobs of anguish are calmed at a word, And the tear-drops no longer in bitterness rollHope breaks through the gloom that enshrouds her sad heart, And her bosom expands with a rapturous glow

Firm faith and full trust, their blest comforts impart,
As she hears from the lips of the messenger flow
Sweet tidings to bid her deep agony flee-
"The Master is come, and he calleth for thee."

So, Christian! though gloomy and sad be thy days,
And the tempests of sorrow encompass thee black;
Though no sunshine of promise or hope sheds its rays
To illumine and cheer thy life's desolate track:
Though thy soul writhes in anguish, and bitter tears flow
O'er the wreck of fond joys from thy bleeding heart riven
Check thy sorrowing murmurs, thou lorn one, and know
That the chastened on earth are the purest for Heaven:
And remember, though gloomy the present may be,
That the Master is coming- and coming to thee.

DORCAS, OR THE GAZELLE.

REV. ALBERT T. CHESTER, D.D

Is it not a proof of our fallen nature that we so much admire that which is merely beautiful? Would it not be required that goodness or utility should be added to beauty, to awaken admiration among the holy? We place much higher upon the roll of Fame the mighty conqueror than the active philanthropist. Say what we may of the excellence of true benevolence, Napoleon is far above Howard in the estimation of the world. A hedge of roses has more admirers than a field of wheat, the sweet violets, breathing odorously in the spring-time, awaken poetic sentiment, but who ever thought of praising in numbers the flower of the priceless potato? The gorgeous rainbow calls out emotions which the useful shower had left slumbering in the breast. Niagara, as its deep current sweeps along like the tramp of an armed host, as it foams amid the rapids, or dashes down the mountain-side, attracts the attention of the world; its solemn music, like the organ of a cathedral, calls the worshippers of natural beauty and sublimity from every land, to pay homage at this shrine.

But we all feel that when this mighty cataract shall be employed in turning the wheels of numerous factories built upon its shore; when its unearthly tones shall be lost amid the clatter of the machinery it drives, the glory of Niagara will have departed.

Woman is more admired in her grace and beauty, shining in the gay assembly, flitting amid the mazes of the dance, or warbling at the harp, than when engaged in making garments for the poor.

This fact may be attributed to the different rates of movement of the taste and the judgment. The one is called into action by a glimpse, a faint odour, an echo. It pronounces instantly with judicial authority, and yet without examination, like the paid lawyer who decides each case, before the trial, in favour of the party by which he is retained. The other calm and dignified, adopts no conclusion until in possession of all the facts, like the impartial judge, who is governed by law and equity in every decision.

To those who, in the perusal of an annual, seek the gratification of a literary taste, the character of Dorcas may present few points of interest; yet it does not seem proper, in grouping together the heroines of the Scriptures, to omit one who was so much honoured of God as to be raised from the dead. Amid all these exhibitions of feminine loveliness and faith and piety, from the Old Testament and from the New, the usefulness of Dorcas ought not to be passed over.

It is by no means certain, however, that her only attraction was her benevolence and usefulness. She may have been also beautiful in person and graceful in manner. Her name, in the Syriac, Tabitha, in the Greek, Dorcas, signifies a roe, or deer, or gazelle. Such names were often given from their fitness