When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on the judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, shelter me;

Let me hide myself in Thee!”

When I came home in the afternoon, I found her singing (if it might be called singing-I mean as to her voice, owing to her hoarseness and want of breath, but I have no doubt she was making melody in her heart to the Lord in these words)

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

Our dear friends, Mrs. Wand Mrs. B, came in just as her strength was exhausted, so that she could only whisper, "I have had a sweet day. The Lord has been very good."

A few days after this, she again became very dull, carnal, and ill-tempered. I tried, by close conversation, reading searching hymns, suitable passages of Scripture, and by prayer, to rouse her out of this state, but all in vain. One evening, I felt inclined to try what silence would do, and therefore determined not to go to prayer with her unless she requested it. Blessed be God, this had the desired effect. The servant informed us that she had been very unhappy through the night, and the next morning, as soon as I entered the room, she held out her hand to me, and, weeping bitterly, said, "Father, can you pray for me?" I kissed her hand, and replied, "Yes, my dear, I can. I have always found a heart to pray, when you have a heart to desire it, and I pray for you when I do not pray with you." I knelt down and had a sweet time, s› matters were once more set right between us.

About a fortnight before my daughter died, our girl read to her one night out of "The Christian Officer's Complete Armour "strong and precious evidence of the truth of Christianity and of the authenticity of the Scriptures, namely, the death-bed of a saint in the full exercise of faith, triumphing over every fear, and exult-ing with joy unspeakable in the clear view of an opening eternity, &c. The account concludes with these words-" But I have seen the happy Christian enjoying such sweet foretastes of that blisswhich he was confident he should partake of throughout eternity that he had but one friend left he wished to see, and that was death. The offer of life, with all its possible advantages, would have been one of the greatest disappointments he could have met with." When the girl finished, my dear Elizabeth expressed her pleasure in hearing it, and added, "Ah! Betsy, that is just my case;" and, repeating those words, "he had but one friend left he

wished to see, and that was death," she said, "That is just what I wish."

There was another circumstance which I cannot omit relating, for, though it may appear trifling in itself, it caused both painful and pleasant sensations to me, and in the end gave a sweet proof of my dear daughter's honesty. I sent a short account of the dealings of God with my Elizabeth to an old and much-beloved friend at Lewes. In her reply to my letter she says, "If your dear child is still with you, tell her that an old pilgrim saluteth her in the name of the Lord, and that, though I have never seen her, I love her dearly in the Lord, and shall see her in glory, and join with her in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb," &c. I read this letter to my Betsy, but, to my grief, she took no notice of it, and made no reply. The next morning, I went into her room as usual, to inquire how she had been through the night. She said, "I have had an indifferent night as to sleep, the cough being very troublesome, but my mind is much better, having been employed with spiritual meditations, and among other thoughts, Mrs. Hooper came into my mind. I thought, what an honour was conferred upon me, that such a saint as Mrs. Hooper should send her love to such a vile creature as I." This confession was very pleasing to me. It caused me to conclude that my dear girl could only speak when and what she really felt. My heart was much enlarged to preach a little sermon to her from these words, "He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes, and to make them inherit the throne of glory; for the pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and He hath set the world upon them." She was well pleased, and made several judicious remarks, expressing her admiration at the goodness and condescension of God.

(To be continued.)

"BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM.”

How many professing the Saviour's dear name
Are holding this world and its pleasures the same,
Though churches and chapels they duly attend,
And loudly for forms and for doctrines contend!
Their business not pressing upon the Lord's Day,
And as it is custom some worship to pay,
Approving, admiring, each makes his own choice
Of preacher well gifted in talent and voice;
And often the pulpit an idol contains
Whose eloquence all their religion sustains.
'Tis pleasing when ministers speak of a heaven,
And tell of a Saviour and sins all forgiven,
While nothing is known of the shame and the loss
Of following Jesus and bearing the cross :

While strains of soft music are charming the ear,
And hymns, in sweet measure, seem only to cheer,
'Tis pleasant to mingle their voice with the choir,
And fancy they praise, while the sound they admire.
Their conscience is lulled as they list to a prayer,
So long and so worded, each want expressed there;
He maketh confession, he pleadeth for them;
They bow down the head, and respond with "Amen.”
Perchance, when at home, they may read and may pray,
When others can listen to all that they say,

Yet never the heart-searching path may have trod
Of praying in secret alone with their God.

How broad and how easy the path which they tread—

A name to be living, and yet they are dead!

Say, where are the fruits of their heavenly birth?

Where stored their heart's treasure-in heaven or on earth?
That question, how solemn before Him whose eye
Looks into the soul, and each motive will try—

"What know ye of Christ? Have ye tasted His grace?
Could you stand in His glory, and gaze on His face?"
"Oh, no!" you reply, and you shrink at the thought;
Then where's your religion? It cometh to nought.
Rest not in the means- -'tis Satan's smooth lie;
He uses religion full oft to destroy;

A service for God and for mammon combined,

'Tis Satan's delusion to lead on the blind.

There are none who can stand in the presence of God
But those who are cleansed in Christ's precious blood;
God-fearing, sin-hating, Christ-loving will be

Each soul that is washed, and through mercy set free.

Rest not in the means-there is nothing will do
But a heart and a spirit created anew-
Created anew by the Spirit divine,

And made in the likeness of Jesus to shine.
By faith and repentance they humbly display
Their first blessed steps upon life's narrow way;
Then, following Christ, they are safe in His fold,
And, growing in grace, His perfections behold.

A Saviour revealed and a Saviour adored,
Where all the rich blessings of mercy are stored;
Life, life everlasting, redemption and peace,
And promise of glory that never shall cease,
Is enough for the soul that is quickened by grace,
And in whose affections the world has no place.
He seeks not for riches, he cares not for fame,
But glories alone in the thrice-blessed Name;
Contented to share in the shame and the loss
Of following Jesus, and bearing His cross.

MARIA C.

THE ANXIOUS INQUIRER'S PAGE.

JACOB.

"He blessed him there.”—GENESIS Xxxii. 29.

THERE are two lines running through the Word, and from thence through the world-a line of blessings and a line of curses-the former connected with sovereign grace, the latter with a broken law. The above passage declares that Jacob was one who inherited the goodly heritage, and to whom the lines fell in the pleasant places of blessing. His history teaches us throughout that blessings are obtained by trial.

From the circumstances connected with the text, we will note down a few thoughts concerning, first, Jacob's position; secondly, Jacob's pleading; thirdly, Jacob's prevailing.

1. Jacob's position.--It will be necessary to see how he arrived at the spot and place where he gained so notable a conquest. We must, therefore, just glance at his previous path. He had long before left his home-with a father's blessing, indeed, but with the stigma of deception and falsehood resting upon his conduct. Jacob had sinned, yet he was watched over and guided by the Lord. One proof of the Lord's care was, that he had to suffer for his sin. His deceit brought a grievous punishment with it. The direct effect of this deception he had practised was, that he had to leave his fondly-attached parents, and go forth, a homeless wanderer in a strange land. Moreover, when he had found a home with his uncle Laban, he was neither happy nor comfortable, and, at the termination of his long sojourn there, he bitterly complains, "In the day the drought consumed me, and the frost by night; and my sleep departed from mine eyes." For upwards of twenty years his life was one of toil, trial, travail, and trouble. Nevertheless, the Lord blessed him, and, when the cruel bondage of his father-in-law became insupportable, at length delivered him from it. Jacob departed, and Laban, in anger and fury, pursued him, intending to sorely punish the poor, defenceless man for stealing away with his family at unawares. But the Lord interposed with a vision, by which Laban's purpose was changed-a proof that the hearts of all are in His hands who is "too wise to err, too good to be unkind." The Lord was on Jacob's side. He was delivered from his father-in-law's wrath, and went on his way rejoicing in the Lord's mercy.

As he journeyed, "the angels of God met him," by which he was given to see that he was encompassed about with an angelic host of protectors, although he had no armed warriors to defend his family and flocks. Before long, however, the reassuring fact

seems to have been forgotten, although, doubt'ess, the manifestation at Mahanaim was preparatory to the trial at Penuel. Revealed mercy is often a preparation for approaching trouble. Jacob now heard of the drawing near of a far more formidable adversary than the one from whom he had parted peacefully. It was no other than his brother Esau, coming, as Jacob thought, to wreak his vengeance upon him. No wonder he was greatly afraid and distressed, which produced

2. Jacob's pleading.-The first thing he did in these trying circumstances was to pray. A sweet lesson this! His petition is recorded in the ninth and following verses, and in it he first reminded the Lord he was walking in accordance with the divine instruction he had received, and that the Lord had also given him the assurance He would deal well with him. At the same time, he expressed a sense of his unworthiness of the least of all God's mercies, which he gratefully acknowledged. Then, making his grief and fear known, he pleads the promise upon which, long before, the Lord had caused him to hope.

After thus offering up one of the most touching prayers on record, he proceeded to adopt what measures he could to lessen, if not to prevent, the calamities, he feared, about to fall upon him. He used all the means at his command to avert the threatened blow, and then, feeling his entire dependence upon the Lord, he again, in the silence and solitude of the night, wrestles in prayer.

Now, some people will pray to be saved from danger (of any sort, temporal or spiritual), and yet, neglecting the means God's providence has placed in their hands, they do what in them lies to bring upon themselves that which they pray they may be saved from. This is a presumptuous tempting of God, and an evident proof that the prayer is insincere. So did not Jacob. There was no hypocrisy of this kind with him. In his case prayer was united to prudence.

When his preparations were complete, and he had committed himself into the hands of his gracious God, night drew on. A brook ran by the encampment, and, sending over all that he had, he, remaining behind, was "left alone" by the "ford Jabbok." The word means "emptying." Mark Jacob's position at Jabbok. The place where he was most emptied of all creature trust, and reduced to utter helplessness (as we shall soon see he was), proved to be the scene of the most conspicuous deliverance. The place of greatest trial is often the place of greatest triumph.

Further, Jacob was alone," without one to share his burden. A poor, desolate creature, full of fear and foreboding, and dreading the troubles of the morrow, he saw the shades of night spreading over the landscape. The surrounding darkness doubtless added to his gloom. For him indeed there was no light." At this time