EPITAPH ON A SLEEPER IN CHURCH.

They kill'd him, and partaking of the bread,
In a few moments all were lying dead.
O world behold what thy goods have done!
Thy gold has poison'd two and murder'd one.

In an epitaph at Doncaster is the following:

What I saved, I lost;
What I spent, I had;

What I gave, I've got.

157

SPRINGS are little things, but they are sources of large streams; a helm is a little thing, but it governs the course of a ship; a bridle bit is a little thing, but see its: use and power; nails and pegs are little things, but they hold the large parts of large buildings together; a word, a look, a frown,-all are little things, but powerful for good or evil. Think of this, and mind the little things. Pay that little debt,-it's promised; redeem it; if it's a shilling, hand it over; you know not what important event hangs upon it. Keep your word sacredly; keep it to your young friends: they will mark it sooner than anybody else, and the effect will be as lasting as life. Mind the little things.

EPITAPH ON A SLEEPER IN
CHURCH.

HERE lies a man who, every Sabbath day,

In public worship slept his time away.

He might have heard of heav'nly rest; but chose
In his pew rather to indulge repose.

The scene is alter'd now-in vain he tries,
In easy slumbers, once to close his eyes;

For God, insulted, doth in anger swear, i

"He who despised my rest, shall never enter there."

OLD MOLLY.

"WELL, Molly," said the Judge, going up to the old apple-woman's stand, "don't you get tired sitting here these cold, dismal days ?" "It's only a little while," said she. "And the hot, dusty days?" said he. "It's only a little while, sir," answered Molly. "And the rainy, drizzly days?" said the Judge. "It's only a little while," answered Molly. "And your sick, rheumatic days, Molly?" said the Judge. "It's only a little while, sir," said she.

"And what then, Molly ?" asked the Judge. "I shall enter into that rest which remains for the people of God," answered the old apple-woman devoutly; "and the troublesomeness of the way there don't pester or fret me. It's only a little while, sir."

"All is well that ends well, I dare say," said the Judge; "but what makes you so sure, Molly ?" "How can I help being sure, sir," said she, "since Christ is the way, and I am in him? He is mine, and I am his. Now I only feel along the way. I shall see him as he is in a little while, sir." Ah, Molly, you've got more than the law ever taught me," said the Judge. "Yes, sir, because I went to the gospel."" "Well, Molly, I must look into these things," said the Judge, taking an apple and walking off. "There's only a little while, sir," said she.

HEAVEN.

On, to be there,

Where never tears of sorrow

Shall dim the eye, nor aching pain nor care

Shall overcloud our morrow!

Oh, to be there!

Oh, lovely home!

Thy fragrant, thornless flowers

Droop not nor die, but everlasting bloom

Crowns all thy golden hours:

Oh, lovely home!

THE JUVENILE REPORTER.

159

Oh, let me go!

Death shall not there dissever

Our loving hearts. Rivers of pleasure flow

At God's right hand for ever:

Oh, let me go!

For thou art there

Who unto me hast given

Eternal life, making me pure and fair;

And this to me is heaven,
For thou art there.

THE JUVENILE REPORTER.

THE Reporter feels very much disposed, this month, to confine his notes to the great Revival that is now extending, and making glad so many hearts. It is not now confined to Ireland, but has reached Glasgow and all the west of Scotland. Prayer-meetings and churches are crowded; many are calling aloud to the Lord to save them, and they do not call in vain. A man knocked at the door of the Wynd Mission meeting-room, in Glasgow, one night, about eleven o'clock. "Why do you shut the door?" he said. "We don't want any more in," said the elder at the door; "the meeting is now for the anxious." "But I am anxious," said the man. At that moment a low wail was heard. "Isn't that dreadful?" said the man. "Not at at all," replied the elder; "it is a hopeful sign." "It may be hopeful to you," said the man, "but it is dreadful to me, who feel my heart so hard I cannot cry." Here is a drunken butcher's prayer:-" About forty began life with me, there are noo only five of us alive; every other one of them died a drunkard's death. I was myself accustomed often to tak' twenty glasses of whisky before break

160

SABBATH LESSONS.

fast. O Jesus," he cried, "have mercy on us puir creatures, weary with our burdens o' sin. There's naebody kens sae weel what that burden is but thysel', for thou alone hast felt it in a' its wecht. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, come, come, come! we are a' waitin' for thee-weary waitin' for thee but thou'rt weel worth the waitin'. Come quickly."

In Ireland the work goes on gloriously. Here is a covenant or promise which many of the people there have been signing

"I take God the Father to be my God (1 Thess. i. 9). I take God the Son to be my Saviour (Acts v. 31). I take God the Holy Ghost to be my Sanctifier (1 Peter i. 2). I take the Word of God to be my rule (2 Tim. iii. 16, 17). I take the people of God to be my people (Ruth i. 16, 17). I likewise dedicate my whole self to the Lord (Romans xiv. 7,8). And I do this deliberately (Joshua xxiv. 15), sincerely (2 Cor. i. 12), freely (Psalm cx. 3), and for ever (Romans viii. 35-39)."

Reader, could you sign this? Have you given yourself to the Lord, "deliberately, sincerely, freely, and for ever"? We are glad to see that signs of daybreak are showing themselves in England-Liverpool, Newcastle, and other places.

Great and merciful Father, may the shower soon descend upon us all, and make us glad in thee!

16 The Twelve sent LVII. & IVIII.-Psalm li. Matt. x. 5-23.

out.

9-13.

23 The Ark and the LIX. & LX.. Psalm ciii. Exodus xxv. 10-2 Mercy Seat. 13-17.

30 Trials and Re- LXI.-Psalm xxii. 26-28.

wards.

Matt. x. 24-42.

Nov. 6 The Golden Calf. LXII. & LXIII.-Ps. cxv. Exodus xxxii. 1–

1-5.

HEATHEN CRUELTY.

THE prophet says, "The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." How awfully true this is! All idolatry is cruel. Their idols are all cruel. Wherever you find men worshipping them, you will meet with deeds of cruelty. In China, in India, in Africano matter where the idolators are to be found-they not only inflict cruel observances upon one another, but also upon themselves. Take a case from India. In some places the farmers of a district will assemble together at seed-time; they will select some poor, unfortunate man or boy as a victim, bind him as a sacrifice to the altar, and then devote him to one of the most barbarous of deaths. While the priests proclaim the omens to be NOVEMBER, 1859.

M