to have done, but Christ came into the world to save sinners." He spoke one day of a tract which he had read, and gave me an account of a simile which he had found in it, and which greatly interested him. If a garden, he said, were cultivated for twenty years, and then neglected but for one year, it would again become full of weeds: thus, he said, the human heart needed continual culture. My poor old man had not that familiarity of manner so common among some of the lower classes: he had lived in respectable places of service, in his earlier days, and thus had acquired a humble and courteous demeanour towards those whom, for a little time (while we are sojourners below), his God had set above him. It was a privilege and honour to visit him, and yet he expressed his astonishment and gratitude that the servants of God should come to him. He received with affecting and exemplary thankfulness any charity that was shown him, but he asked for nothing. When it was inquired of him whether a blanket would be acceptable, he could not say but that it would, though he added, "I provided myself as well as I could before I left the workhouse." And O, how had he provided? Would that the sons and daughters of luxury could see the mean pallet on which that heir of glory expired! But some readers may be inclined to ask, Why had he not laid by money for his old age? I do not know the whole of his history; for though he often, at my request, began to give me some account, yet he soon turned the conversation to something more interesting, to the present feelings of his mind, or to the glorious, boundless prospect before him. I know this much: that he had had a large family, and many difficulties; he had after he left service, engaged in the fluctuating concerns of an inn, and there been repeatedly robbed. He was now destitute of all earthly resources, except the parish allowance, and an occasional help from a daughter, who had not been taught in vain that it was her duty to love, honour, and succour her father and mother. He had long been in the habit of attending at the holy table, and receiving the pledges of his Saviour's love; and now, that it was impossible for him to reach the church, he requested a visit from the minister, that he might once more receive that blessed sacrament. Of this time of refreshing he spoke afterwards with much comfort: "I am not afraid of death," he said; "I look to my blessed Redeemer; it has been my practice many years." I have looked round the little smoky room with its scanty furniture, thinking what a home for one who will soon be in the courts of heaven! When he expressed a hope that I should be rewarded for coming and ministering to him, I reminded him that salvation was of grace, and not of debt; he knew it, he said, but that a cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of a disciple, should not lose its reward. Speaking of the new year, he said he should never live to see the close of it, and he did not desire it: "yet we must not be anxious," he added; "Job said, 'All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come."" "The "The Lord reward you,” he again said; but I feel assured not with an idea that any can merit reward from God. Lord reward you," he said on nearly the last interview I ever had with him, "I have wanted for nothing, 'Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life."" I repeated to him a hymn. "Do you love the 90th Psalm ?" he asked; and then he repeated many verses of it with much distinctness and feeling. "We must sing "I was brought up to sing," he said. with the spirit and with the understanding. There is a difference in this," he added. "We may sing with the understanding and not with the spirit; but we ought to sing with both." Before I left him, I repeated to him this verse: O that we at last may stand With the sheep at thy right hand, Enter in by thee to heaven. "You are sure of going to heaven," he said, “but all have temptations." As I left the room, his eyes followed me, and I heard him say repeatedly, "The Lord bless you! The Lord Almighty bless you!" Such was the gratitude of this old man, that he thanked "That was a very me frequently for the slightest kindness. nice sweet orange," he said of the one which moistened his parched and dying lips. That was the last visit: several preceding ones I had thought would be the last. When I began to speak to him, he said, "I cannot understand, but the Lord's will be done; we cannot withstand it." I thought I would try if he could understand a hymn, and I repeated some verses: Come let us join our cheerful songs With angels round the throne: Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, He repeatedly said "Amen." Only a little while longer; some hours of short and difficult breathing, some suffering from extreme feebleness, and he was gone. His last words were, "By the help of the Lord Jesus Christ, I shall get to heaven." Many months before, he had sent to the undertaker money to pay for his coffin; for his daughter had sent him a sovereign, and thus he chose to spend a great part of it. He had requested to have the coffin sent and placed under his bed this was not done; but the request shows with what calmness he anticipated death. : Surely none ever trusted in the Lord, and were confounded. Surely none ever sought help from the Lord Jesus Christ, but by that help they reached to heaven. [Things New and Old; or Recollections by a District Visitor.] RULES FOR DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 1. EVERY day let your eye be fixed on God through the Lord Jesus Christ, that by the influence of his Holy Spirit you may receive your mercies as coming from Him, and that you may use them to his glory. 2. Always remember, if you are happy in each other, it is the favour and blessing of God that makes you so if you are tried and disappointed, God does thereby invite you to seek your happiness more in Him. 3. In every duty act from a regard to God, because it is his will and your duty. "Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus," and look to him to bless you and your partner, and that you may abide in his love. 4. Never suffer your regard for each other's society to rob God of your heart, or of the time which you owe to God and your own soul. 5. Recollect often, that the state of marriage was designed to be an emblem of the love of Christ and his Church, a state of mutual guardianship for God, and a nursery Church and the skies. for the 6. Remember that your solemn covenant with each other was made in the temple of the Lord, in the presence of his Church, and that the Most High God was called upon as a witness. 7. Be careful that custom and habit do not lessen your attentions to each other, or the pleasing satisfaction with which they were once both shown and received. 8. Whenever you perceive a languor in your affections, always make it a rule to suspect yourself. The object which once inspired regard, may, perhaps, be still the same, and the blame only attaches to you. 9. Be sure to avoid unkind and irritating language. Always conciliate. It is your interest and your duty. Recollect this very day what God has borne with in you. You 10. Study your partner's character and disposition. Many little nice adjustments are requisite for happiness. must both accommodate, or you will both be unhappy. The kindest and the happiest pair And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive. 11. Do not expect too much. You are not always the same, neither is your partner. Sensibility must be watched over, or it will soon become its own tormentor. 12. When you discover failings which you did not suspect, and this you may be assured will be the case, think on the opposite excellence, and make it your prayer that your regard may not be diminished. If you are heirs of the grace of life, your failings will shortly be over; you will hereafter both be perfect in the Divine image. Esteem and love each other now, as you certainly will then. Forbearance is the trial and grace of this life only. 13. Time is short, the way of life is too short to fall out in, and the comfort of life too uncertain to be ensnared by. Pray for the wisdom of the serpent and the harmlessness of the dove. 14. Forget not that one of you must die first-one of you must feel the pang and chasm of separation. A thousand little errors may then wound the survivor's heart. It is policy to anticipate it. O that when you meet again, the deceased may say, in heaven, "I am, under God, indebted to you that I am here!” 15. Pray constantly. You need much prayer. Prayer will engage God on your behalf. His blessing only can make you happy in the midst of your mercies. His blessing can make even the bitterness of life wonderfully sweet. He can suspend all our joys. Blessed be his holy Name! He can, and often does, suspend all our sorrows. Never pass a day without praising Him for all that is past; glorify Him with your present mercies, and trust Him for all that is to come. -Rev. BASIL WOODD, M.A. MEMOIR OF A FAITHFUL SERVANT. In one of the eastern counties of England lived William Grimes, the subject of the following memorial. The parents of William were honest, industrious labourers. His father worked with a farmer in his native parish; and his mother, besides the care and labour attendant on the bringing up of a young family, assisted the different wealthy families of their neighbourhood in washing, and, during the summer months, employed herself in the hay and harvest fields. They had a small cottage upon one of those slips of waste land which border many of the public roads in the villages of that county. This land, which belonged to the lord of the manor, and might amount to somewhat more than half an acre, furnished them with many of those little comforts which soften the condition and gladden the hearts of the labouring poor. It produced also the potatoes which form so important and useful a portion of their sustenance, and which enabled them to feed the pig, purchased by the father's industry. Nor was their cottage without its little ornaments. A small slip of land in its front produced the wall-flower and the rose-tree, together with some bunches of those useful pot-herbs, which make the homely fare of the cottager more pleasant and more wholesome. The care of this little garden fell chiefly upon William's mother, who took much natural pleasure in it, and who was often gratified by the undisguised approbation of those who passed by it.. As soon almost as William could run alone, he began to be made useful; and by the time that he was six years old, he was a very great help to poor mother, in watching the cradle of an infant brother, |