and as he lay with his head on the back of the chair, and his eyes fixed on the flickering blaze of the coal, visions of his wet tramp in the city, and of the lonely garret he had been visiting, and of the poor woman, with the pale discouraged face, to whom he had carried warmth and comfort, all blended themselves together. He felt too an indefinite creeping chill, and an uneasy sensation in his head, and it is probable his long damp walk was likely to cause him some inconvenience. At length, he, a former Wide Awake, was fast asleep, and in the land of dreams.

He dreamed of being confined to his bed, that the Doct. came and went, and that he grew sicker and sicker. He was a-going to die. He saw his wife sitting weeping by his pillow-his children standing by with frightened faces— while all things in the room began to swim and waver and fade, and voices that called his name, and sobs and lamentations that rose around him, seemed far off and distant to his ear. "O eternity-eternity-I'm going-I'm going he thought, and in that hour, not one of all his benevolent deeds seemed good enough to lean upon-all bore some taint or tinge to his purified eye of selfishness, and seemed unholy before the All Pure, "I am going," he thought, "there's no time to stay; no time to alter; to balance ac counts; and I know not what I am; but I know, O Jesus, what thou art. I have trusted in thee, and shall never be confounded." And with that last breath of prayer, earth was past.

A soft and solemn breathing, as of music, awakened him -in heaven! As an infant, not yet fully awake, hears the warblings of his mother's hymn, and smiles, half conscious, so the heaven-born become aware of sweet voices and loving faces around him, ere yet he fully woke to the new immortal life.

The man spake not-but he wondered in his heart who they were, and whence it came that they knew him; and soon as the enquiry formed itself in his mind, it was answered by his celestial companions. "I," said one bright spirit, was a poor boy, who you found in the streets; you sought me out, you sent me to school, you led me to the house of God, and now I'm here." "And we," said other voices, "were neglected children whom you saved; we also thank

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you." "And I,” said another, "was a lost, helpless girl, sold to sin and shame; every body passed me by till you came. You built a home, a refuge, for such poor wretches as me, and there I, and many like me, heard of Jesus, and here we are." "And I," said another, "was once a clerk in your store. I came to the city innocent, but was betrayed by the tempter. I forgot my mother's God. I went to the gaming table, and the theatre, and at last I robbed your drawer. Justly might you have cast me off, but you bore with me, you watched over me, and led me to the Savior. I am here through you this day." "And I," said another, "was a poor slave girl, doomed to be sold on the auctionblock, to a life of infamy. Had you not been willing to give so largely and liberally for my ransom, no one had thought to buy me out of a bondage worse than death. You stimulated others to give, and I was redeemed. I lived to bring my children up for Christ,-they are all here to bless you forever,—and their children on earth, and children's children too, are growing up in freedom to love and bless you." "And I," said another," was an unbeliever. In the pride of my intellect I thought I could demonstrate the absurdity of Christianity. I thought I could answer the argument from miracles and prophecy, but your patient, consistent and self-denying life was an argument I could never answer. When I saw you spending all your time and all your money in efforts for your fellow men, undiscouraged by ingratitude, and careless of praise, then methought there's something divine in such a life; and that has brought me here." "And I," exclaimed still another, "was a minister of the gospel, with much of the 'Shady Side,' blending with the Sunny Side' in my earthly experiences; and you greatly cheered me, not only by your fervent prayers, and kindly sympathies, and warmest co-operation in every good word and work, but by your free-will contributions of material aid amid my pecuniary necessities, thereby empowering me to accomplish more than I otherwise could have done for the upbuilding of the Redeemer's kingdom, and the salvation of undying souls."

The man looked around on the gathering congregation, and he saw that there was no one whom he had drawn heavenward who had not also drawn thither myriads of others.

In his life-time he had been scattering seeds of love around him from hour to hour, almost unconsciously, and now he saw every seed springing up into a widening forest of immortal beauty and glory. It seemed as if there was to be no end to the numbers that flocked to claim him as their

long expected soul-friend and benefactor. His heart was full, and his face became like an angel's, as he looked up to one nearer and dearer, and infinitely more precious than all, and said, "This is thy love for me, unworthy, O Jesus. Of thee, and to thee, and through thee, are all things, forever and ever. Amen."

Amen, and amen! as with chorus of many waters, and mighty thunderings, the sound swept onward, and died far off in chiming echoes among the distant stars! and the dreamer awoke, for a few years longer to scatter light in darkened pathways, and pour benefactions into otherwise desolate homes !

"Would'st thou from sorrow find a sweet relief,
Or is thy heart oppressed with woes untold?
Balm would'st thou find for corroding grief?
Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold!
Rouse to some work of high and holy love
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know;
Shalt bless mankind; while in the world above
The good begun by thee shall onward flow
In many a branching stream, and wider grow;
The seed that in these few and fleeting hours
Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow,
Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers,
And yield thee fruit divine in heaven's immortal bowers!"

W. C. W.

Jan. 1861.

INTRODUCTORY LINES.

"Not with mistrusting heart, or anxious brow,
My little book, I send thee forth again;
So thou the suffrage of the good obtain,
I seek not what the worldling can bestow
Of perishable praise,-enough to know,
That at the lonely couch of grief or pain,
Thy simple page one passing smile may gain,
Or kindle in the breast devotion's glow.
Yet, should'st thou find a place in blissful bower,
'Midst happy hearts, unthinking of their doom,
In the fond trust of that delusive hour,

O whisper to them of the coming gloom,
And tell them of the faith whose mighty power
Can light the dreary precincts of the tomb."

HE DOETH ALL THINGS WELL.

I remember how I loved her when a little guiltless child,
I saw her in the cradle as she looked on me and smiled;
My cup of happiness was full, my joy words cannot tell,
And I blessed the glorious Giver "who doeth all things well.”

Months passed, that bud of promise was unfolding every hour,
I thought that earth had never smiled
upon a fairer flower,
So beautiful, it well might grace the bowers where angels

dwell,

And waft its fragrance to His throne "who doeth all things well."

Years fled, that loved and loving child was dear as life to me, And woke in my unconscious heart, a wild idolatry;

I worshipped at an earthly shrine, lured by some magic spell, Forgetful of the praise of Him" who doeth all things well."

She was the lovely star, whose light around my pathway shone,

Amid this darksome vale of tears through which I journey on, Its radiance had obscured the light which round His throne

doth dwell,

And I wandered far away from Him "who doeth all things well."

That star went down in beauty, yet it shineth sweetly now In the bright and dazzling coronet that decks the Savior's

brow;

She bowed to the Destroyer whose shafts none may repel, But we know, for God hath told us, " He doeth all things well."

I remember well my sorrows as I stood beside her bed, And my deep and heartfelt anguish when they told me she was dead;

And oh! that cup of bitterness, let not my heart rebel, God gave, He took, He will restore, "He doeth all things well."