THE ORPHAN BOY'S LAMENT AND COMFORT.

I NEVER saw a father's smiles

He never smiled on me

E'er light I saw, he pass'd the bounds
Of frail mortality.

"IT IS TOO LATE."

THESE words sound unpleasantly when one arrives in breathless haste at the office to take his place by the train. Perhaps the journey was important. To go by the next train might be of no use.

The journey to Eternity is important. We should be in time. Youth is the time, or we may be "too late." A worldly-minded man on a journey was taken ill very suddenly, in the middle of the night, at an inn. The people there sent for a minister. He came, and the dying man looking him in the face, before he could speak, said to him, "Sir, it is too late." The minister said, "Christ is able to save to the uttermost," and explained the gospel to him. He replied, "Sir, it is too late." The minister asked, "Will you allow me to pray with you ?" His only reply was, "Sir, it is too late." He died saying, "It is too late." Oh! that all, especially the young, may take warning from this fact, and seek for salvation before it is too late!

An ungodly young man in his dying moments said, "Oh! had I believed and known what I now do, I should have been more concerned to secure my everlasting interest; I should have employed my time to better purpose; but now, I fear, it is too late!"

A friend was once pressing, on a young lady of fifteen, the importance of thinking of religion; she replied, she would do so when she was older; but added, "I will enjoy the world while I am young." In vain did her friend remind her of the uncertainty of life; she appeared displeased, and repeated her resolution.

But mark the result-in about three weeks after, that friend attended her funeral! My reader, think of this fact, and trust not tomorrow, for "now is the day of salvation !" Facts like the above are constantly occurring, and call for an instant attention to "the things which make for our peace."

66

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.

66

A pious young man was called to visit an aged person, between seventy and eighty, who was dangerously ill. He found him sitting in an arm chair, supported by pillows. My first inquiry," says he, was into the state of his mind; which I found to be very dark and ignorant. I endeavoured to direct him to Jesus as the way to salvation, and as the perishing sinner's only Friend. I exhorted him also to prayer; earnestly entreating him to avoid delay in this most important concern. For a few minutes he listened with serious attention, and then suddenly burst into a flood of tears, and exclaimed, "Ah! my young friend, had I thought on these things thirty or forty years ago, what a happy man might I now have been! but now, it is too late!"

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.

MILLIONS of feet have traversed here-
Where are their parted spirits?
Each in a dark or glorious sphere,
Its own reward inherits:

Where they are fled we soon shall fly,
And join them in eternity.

The crowd who earth's arena tread,
Each busy in his station,

Are few compared with all the dead
Of every age and nation.

The world of life counts millions o'er,
That of the dead hath many more.

It is a solemn thought that we,
Life's little circle rounded,
Must launch upon that endless sea,
Which shore hath never bounded;
A sea of happiness and love;
Or depths below and clouds above.

A holy Judge, a righteous doom,
A bar where none dissemble,
A short, quick passage to the tomb-
How should we stop and tremble!
Great God, as years pass swiftly by,
Write on each heart, "Thou too must die!"

TO CHILDREN.

YE are lovely, dear children;-the rosebud is fair,
When the dewdrop of morn makes its resting-place there;
And the lily, meet emblem of Purity's bloom;

And the violet, unmatched in delicious perfume;→
We heap these sweet names on the dear ones we prize,
And rosebuds and dewdrops lose worth in our eyes.

Ye are graceful in motion:-the gamboling fawn
Scarcely rivals your speed as ye bound o'er the lawn;
And when sleep's gentle hand on your eyelids has prest,
How transcendently lovely ye are in your rest;

See the smile on the lip-see the peace on the brow;
Which of earth's brightest objects can equal ye now?

Then your voices are music in infantine play;—
How the calm ringing laugh cheats our sorrows away!
The joy how untroubled-the spirits how light!—
The content of the day-the repose of the night!
Ye are blessed, dear children! life's morning is fair;
And, though show'rs blend with sunshine, no anguish is
there.

Ye are lovely, ye dear ones! yet fade whilst ye bloom—
Ye are lovely when dressed and adorned for the tomb;
Though the beauty of mind through your eye beam not now,
May the beauty of holiness rest on your brow.

The freed spirit, then glorious, immortal will stand,
Amidst ranks of angels in that happy land!

WHEN the history of the present century is written, the invention of running carriages along iron rails will be set down as one of its most remarkable discoveries.

Man is naturally slow in his bodily movements. He cannot move with the rapidity of a bird, or a fourfooted beast, or even a fish. He may travel a great distance on foot, if he walk slowly and steadily, and take time for rest: but if he run, he will soon be fatigued. Some, however, have excelled in running. We read of such in the historical books of the bible, and in the histories of Greece and Rome, who ran to carry tidings of battles. But these were extraordinary cases.

Men have, therefore, sought other means of movement, by mounting themselves on the backs of animals, as horses, asses, mules, camels, dromedaries, and even elephants; and this they did for their ease or more rapid motion. Carriages with wheels were also invented, drawn by horses, for greater ease and comfort.

In the days of our fathers on this island, men seldom moved from the neighbourhood in which they were born, except led out to combat by their lord or feudal chief. Indeed, they were forbidden, and the laws were very severe to punish them if they did. Multitudes in those days saw little more than the hills and vallies which were within the bounds of their horizon.