family. I am ashamed of all this now. Let us lead a new life from this day. And let us begin at once, and commend one another to the blessing and mercy of God."

From that day there was a visible change over the whole house; and the head of the family, whom the writer personally knew, became a consistent, earnest, active Christian; and in all his public life, as a magistrate or the director of a railway, his light shone, and by his good works he glorified his Father in heaven. He regarded it as a privilege to take the chair at the meetings of the Bible, Missionary, Tract, and London City Mission Societies. He felt a great interest in the conversion of the Jews. He loved all who loved Christ, but his special mission was among the sailors and fishermen; and frequently, at the request of the missionary, he addressed them with manly and earnest eloquence at the Bethel on a Sunday evening. At length his health failed, and, after a lingering illness, he was taken to his rest. On the day of his funeral the shops were closed in the town, and the flags waved half-mast high in the harbour. The towns-people, and especially the seafaring folk, felt that they had lost a father, a brother, and a friend.

PRAYING MOTHERS.-At a meeting where eleven persons voluntarily rose and related their Christian experience, all of them declared that they were brought to the knowledge of Christ through the prayers and counsels of pious mothers; and one of them, herself the mother of eleven children, added, with many grateful tears, that all her own children were also in the right way.

VICIOUS NURSERY LESSONS.-We have sometimes wondered to see a helpless kitten or puppy given up to be tortured in a nursery, without even an attempt to explain to the children the pain they are inflicting, and the duties they owe to the helpless. Thus what might form the most beautiful trait in the child's character is changed to a deformity. Instead of learning from the kitten a generous consideration for weakness and helplessness, the little one receives in the nursery the lesson of brutal tyranny. No parent ought to allow a child the possession of any living creature with whose comfort and welfare they do not charge themselves. Children are not naturally cruel, they are only ignorant and inconsiderate. They have no conception of the pain they often inflict, even by their loving caresses. A boy, too, has in him a sort of wild, uncultured love of domination and sense of power, which are no sins, but may be made the foundations of great virtue, if he be early taught that his strength and power of control are given him for the protection of weakness, and not for the oppression of it. A boy can use the same faculties in defending and helping poor animals that he can in oppressing them; and the pets of the nursery are valuable for teaching that very lesson.-Mrs. H. B. Stowe.

MADE THEM ALL."-Ps. civ. 24.

THE DAISY.

HAT hand but His who arched the skies,
And pours the day-spring's living flood,
Wondrous alike in all He tries,

Could raise the daisy's purple bud,
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin,
And cut the gold-embossèd gem,

That, set in silver, gleams within,
And fling it, unrestrained and free,
O'er hill and dale, and desert sod;
That man, where'er he walks, may see
At every step the stamp of God?

MASON GOOD.

DEATH-SONG OF ONE BORN BLIND.

HE night far spent! the day at
hand!

Oh, can it be

'That I am near the far-off land

Where I shall see ?

And will my day no more be night?
Will there for me

Be light, the everlasting light

I long to see?

Death strikes the fetters from my eyes
And sets them free:

In darkness I lie down, to rise

And ever see.

W

THE DAISY.

HAT hand but His who arched the skies,
And pours the day-spring's living flood,
Wondrous alike in all He tries,

Could raise the daisy's purple bud,
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin,
And cut the gold-embossèd gem,

That, set in silver, gleams within,
And fling it, unrestrained and free,
O'er hill and dale, and desert sod;
That man, where'er he walks, may see
At every step the stamp of God?

MASON GOOD.

DEATH-SONG OF ONE BORN BLIND.

HE night far spent! the day at
hand!

Death strikes the fetters from my eyes
And sets them free:

In darkness I lie down, to rise
And ever see.

What now to me would all the light
Of this world be ?

Far better darkness now, and bright
Eternity.

Thanks for the long long years of
night

So blest to me;

For faith on earth,-in heaven for sight

Eternally.

And thanks for every other sense
Quickened by Thee,

A goodly, kindly recompense
Vouchsafed to me.

For every cloud of this dark land,
Thanks be to Thee;

Brightening the glories of that strand
To which I flee.

There is my own, my angel wife,
Waiting for me:

The face I never saw in life,

Now, now I'll see.

Weep not, my friends and children, who

My dying see:

The cloud that's falling upon you
Brings light to me.

Surely the day is breaking;-hark,
It calleth me!

No more these sightless eyes are dark:

I see! I see!