he filled the urn with conquest, and with the blood-red irrigation soaked the reeking soil. In vain. And last of all, he travelled far, and climbed a lofty steep, in quest of a famous dew. And in his pilgrimage to the World-Top Mountain, he amassed such knowledge as no mortal had ever gleaned before. He learned the entire of things, and spake of birds, and beasts, and fishes; and when he returned so wondrous wise, his compatriots raised a shout with which the welkin vibrates still. And from the chalice he poured the hoarded draught, -the largest flood of fame ever wasted on weary land. But still there was nothing seen except the wiry trellis against the burning sky; and on his blasted bower the broken-hearted monarch wrote, "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity."

Years passed on, and, visiting the spot, the soul of the Prince was moved. It felt as if all his youth had been a balmy trance in this bower of blessedness, and as if he had tasted no real joy since then. And, observing beneath the withered canopy the crumbling stock of Ashtaroth, he seized the rotten pagod, and hurled it far away. Then, sinking on the ground in a paroxysm of bitter grief, he cried, "My Father, my God, wert not thou the Guide of my youth ?" His spirit relented. To the God of his early adoration, he felt his early love returning, and soon sank into a sleep which ingenuous shame and godly sorrow pervaded. As he woke, the smell of a delicious flower startled a youthful memory; and, gazing upwards, roses of Sharon looked down through the lattice, whilst amongst them, like pulses of Paradise, exquisite odours went and came. Heaven's window had opened whilst the penitent slept, and had sent a plenteous rain. And rising from the fragrant couch, as a conclusion of the whole matter, and as the business of his remaining days, Solomon wrote this inscription, "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole of man."*-The Happy Home.

THE TWO DEATH-BEDS.

Said a dying youth to his weeping friends: "I am entering upon my last journey, which, so far from being terrible, is inviting and delightful. I feel the infirmities of nature, but my sense of pain is lost in my ardent hope of salvation. I have heartily repented of all my sins, and firmly believe, through the mercies of my God and the redeeming merits of my Saviour, that I shall be numbered with the chosen of God." And he died.

Said another, in his dying moments, without God and without hope: "My life has been spent-foolishly spent-because it never yielded one hour of solid happiness. I have lived without thinking of God, and why should he now think of me, except it be to judge

* For the key, consult the book of Ecclesiastes, and 1 Kings xi.

and to damn me? died.

God will not, cannot forgive me.'

And he

Like

Reader, like the above-named persons, you may be young. the latter, you may be fond of the world. And if so, listen to the words of the inspired penman: "Rejoice in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things,¡God will bring thee into judgment." As if God should say in the midst of your pleasures, Go, if you will, and mingle in the scenes of the world;-go to the place of exciting amusement or revelry;-go to the card-table and the ball-room, the dram-shop and the theatre;-associate with the thoughtless and sceptical, violate the Sabbath and reject the word of God, till all the mildness, all the ingenuousness, all the simplicity and innocence of youth, is lost in the wreck of vice; but carry with you the overwhelming thought, that for all these things God will bring you into judgment. Yes, trifling as you suppose your sins may be, God will bring you into judgment. A trifling sin is trifling with the eternal God. Triflers in youth, or manhood, or age, will stand before a tribunal where trifles will assume a solemn reality. In the sufferings of Jesus Christ on the cross, you behold not only an affecting exhibition of God's mercy for the guilty, but also the clearest evidence of his abhorrence of sin. Deal not in little sins, lest the blood which was "shed for the remission of sins," becomes a "savour of death unto death."

TOO LATE.

Last evening I went down to a steam-boat to see a gentleman who had promised to carry a letter to a friend for me, and just got there in time to hand it to him, as the captain cried out, "Let go,” and off went the boat. I am glad I was not too late, thought I, when a gentleman ran past me crying out, "Hold on! hold on!" but the captain shook his head and cried, "It is too late." Then the poor man looked very sad, bit his lip, and stamped his feet, but all would do no good-it was too late." Perhaps he had friends on board, perhaps valuable baggage, perhaps he wished to go in that boat that he might see some sick friend before he died; but, alas, he was too late! Ah, how often is that the case! It is an old saying, that "time and tide wait for no man.”

A young woman who was very sick sent for a minister to visit her. While he was pointing to Christ, and telling her how willing the Saviour was that sinners should come to him, she burst into tears, and said, "Oh, that I had repented when the Spirit of God was striving with me; but now I am undone!" And at another time, just before she died, she said, "When I was in health I delayed repentance from

time to time. Oh, that I had my time to live over again! Oh, that I had obeyed the gospel! But now I must burn in hell for ever. I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it !"

An old man was called upon by a young christian friend, who, finding him very sick, began to speak to him about religion and his soul's salvation. "Ah, my young friend," said the old man, with tears, "had I thought on these things many years ago, how happy I might now be; but it is now too late!" And so he died, crying, "I am lost for ever."

You may remember that in the parable" of the ten virgins, in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, five were foolish, and were not prepared with lighted lamps in time. And while they went to buy oil to trim their lamps with, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him, and the door was shut. When the five foolish virgins came, they found the door closed, and they were "too late!"

Oh, who will be too late among all who read this? Think of it, dear young friends, and give your hearts to God to-day.-New York Evangelist.

Varieties.

of

IS GOD IN THIS HOUSE?-In Greenland, when a stranger knocks at the door, he asks, “Is God in this house ?" And if they answer, "Yes," he enters. Reader, this little messenger knocks at your door with the Greenland salutation, "Is God in this house ?" Were you, like Abraham, entertaining an angel unawares, what would be the report he would take back to heaven? Would he find you commanding your children and your household, and teaching them the way the Lord? Would he find an altar in your dwelling? Do you worship God with your children? Is there a church in your house? If not, then God is not in your house! A prayerless family is a godless family. It is a family on which Jehovah frowns. He will pour out his fury upon it some day. "O Lord, pour out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not, and upon the families that call not on thy name. A prayerless family and a heathen family are here counted the same!-James Hamilton.

THE TRANSITORINESS OF LIFE.-Men endure in this world sorrow enough, and pain enough, and disappointment enough, and enough of other ills, to convince them, if they would be convinced, that they are strangers and pilgrims here. But the same truth is taught more impressively by the great teacher-Death; for whether we long for another world or not, it is not left to our choosing whether we shall leave this. Whether or not we seek that city which hath

foundations, here we have no continuing city. Whether our course be heaven-ward or hell-ward, it is rapidly carrying us beyond the confines of time, and this visible sphere. The shortness of his stay in this world, the certainty of his speedy removal, and the uncertainty of time, renders every man, whether he choose it or not, a pilgrim here. Nor is he a pilgrim the less, though he loves the place of his pilgrimage, and would gladly make it his home. For to its contests, its disquieting and feverish cares, its manifold sorrows and ills, this other element is added, that it is transitory—“narrow as a handbreadth or span,"-fleeting as a shadow that declineth,-as a dream when one awaketh,-as a pageant which passes by and is gone,—as a tale told, ended, forgotten.-Lee.

THAT'S THE LAST OF IT.-How often do we hear that the problems of perpetual motion and quadrature of the circle have been satisfactorily solved! The papers from the Atlantic to the Pacific tell us so, and that's the last of it. A sinner, and he the type of a large class, under some alarming and threatening providence, very earnestly promises, if he should escape this time, he will reform the whole course of his life. He does escape, and that's the last of it. An agent charged with an important mission, hastens to a rich professor of religion, and solicits his aid to send the gospel to the destitute, to sustain some falling church, or to relieve some distressed widow and orphan. He does not receive a blunt refusal; the rich man only requests that he may have time to think of it, and that's the last of it. The great mass of mankind are regardless of the claims of religion. They care only for the things of this world, and in due course of time. they die; but that is NOT the last of it-for after death cometh the judgment !

A SOUL FOR A WORLD.-When Lysimachus was engaged in a war with the Getæ, he was so affected with the torments of thirst that he offered his kingdom to his enemies for permission to quench it. But when they had furnished the draught, and he had drunk it off, his folly burst upon his mind, and forced from him the exclamation, "Ah, wretched me, who for such a momentary gratification have lostso great a kingdom!" Reader, take care how thou resemblest Lysimachus, and give up thy heavenly kingdom for a paltry momentary pleasure, furnished by thy foes. "What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?”

INFIDEL STUPIDITY.-Whilst the infidel mocks at the superstitions of the vulgar, and insults over their credulous fears, their childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not occur to him to observe that the most preposterous device by which the weakest devotee ever believed he was securing the happiness of a future life, is more rational than unconcern about it. Upon this subject, nothing is so absurd as indifference-no folly so contemptible as thoughtlessness and levity.— Paley.

JESUS, JUSTICE, AND THE SINNER.

"Enter not into judgment with thy servant; for in thy sight shall no man living be justified."-Psalm cxliii. 2.

Jes. Bring forth the pris'ner, Justice. Just. Thy commands

A re done, just Judge: See here the pris'ner stands.

Jes. What has the pris'ner done? Say; what's the cause

Of his commitment? Just. He hath broke the laws

Of his too gracious GOD; conspir'd the death

Of that great Majesty that gave him breath,

And heaps transgression, LORD, upon transgression.

Jes. How know'st thou this? Just. E'en by his own confession:

His sins are crying; and they cried aloud:

They cried to Heav'n, they cried to Heav'n for blood.

Jes. What say'st thou, sinner? hast thou ought to plead

That sentence should not pass? hold up thy head,

And shew thy brazen, thy rebellious face.

Sin. Ah, me! I dare not: I'm too vile and base

To tread upon the earth, much more to lift
Mine eyes to Heav'n; I need no other shrift
Than mine own conscience; LORD, I must confess,
I am no more than dust, and no whit less
Than my indictment styles me; ah, if thou
Search too severe, with too severe a brow,

What flesh can stand? I have transgress'd thy laws;

My merits plead thy vengeance; not my cause.

Just. LORD, shall I strike the blow? Jes. Hold, Justice, stay:
Sinner, speak on; what hast thou more to say?

Sin. Vile as I am, and of myself abhorr'd,
I am thy handy-work, thy creature, LORD,
Stamped with thy glorious image, and at first
Most like to thee, though now a poor accurst,

Convicted caitiff, and degen'rous creature,

Here trembling at thy bar. Just. Thy fault's the greater.
LORD, shall I strike the blow? Jes. Hold, Justice, stay:

Speak, sinner; hast thou nothing else to say ?

Sin. Nothing but mercy, mercy, LORD; my state

Is miserably poor and desperate;

I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee

From Lord to JESUS, from thyself to Thee.

Just. Cease thy vain hopes; my angry GOD has vow'd,

Abused mercy must have blood for blood:

Shall I yet strike the blow? Jes. Stay, Justice, hold;

My bowels yearn, my fainting blood grows cold,

To view the trembling wretch; methinks I spy

My Father's image in the pris'ner's eye.

Just. I cannot hold. Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade
Into my sides, let there the wound be made:

Cheer up, dear soul; redeem thy life with mine:
My soul shall smart, my heart shall bleed for thine.

Sin. O groundless deeps! O love beyond degree !
Th' offended dies to set th' offender free.

Philip Quarles.