majesty does he perform his course in the heavens ; with what grandeur does he sink over the hills, tinging their summits with his golden beams. My dear young friends, whilst we gaze upon those enchanting scenes these perfections of nature, the works of our heavenly Father-we are ready to call this world a paradise, but it is only an earthly one, for how fleeting are all things here below. The seasons, how quickly they revolve; the sun, how soon its brightness is lost in the shades of night; the flowers, lovely as they are, speedily fade and die; the sprightly youth looking forward to future happiness, becomes languid, pale, and is no more. O yes there is pain mixed with our pleasures; sighs, tears, and sorrows, with our smiles; and death with our highest enjoyments. It is sin that has mixed up this bitter cup, and concealed the thorn beneath the rose.

But there is a brighter world than this, beautiful as it is-have you ever heard of it? O yes. That book of books, the bible, has told you of it. The Saviour of mankind came from that world; he came that we might arrive in safety there; he pointed out the way, and told us what a happy place it is. There is eternal summer; there the winter blasts are never felt; no darkness follows the daylight; no tears in that blest place are wept; there no friends lament the dead. Angel bands, sainted-souls, and martyrs who bled on earth are there; and "holy children, when they die, go to that world above." Dear young

readers, do you not wish to be there also. No human tongue can tell the glories of that world; every earthly object comes infinitely short of the comparison; no city can vie with the New Jerusalem above; there is the river of life flowing through its everlasting fields, and the tree of life for the healing of the nations, and there is Jesus on his throne of glory, and happy spirits casting their crowns before him, lost in wonder, love, and praise. Strive to get there. It is worth a

struggle, and he who said to his disciple, feed my lambs, will carry you in his bosom, and you shall be his in that day when he numbers up his jewels. Let the pious admonitions of your parents and teachers find a way into your heart; think of the many prayers that are offered up for you. Surely you cannot allow all this anxiety on your account to pass by without due consideration ? Let the salvation of your own soul be the subject of your earnest prayers; give up the sins of youth, and love Jesus who died for you, and rose again-whose blood cleanseth us from all sin. Live all the days of your life in the love of God, so that at last you may look with composure upon a burning world, and go to enjoy the rapturous bliss of angels in the paradise above, and there sing of redeeming love through one vast eternity. Darlington.

J. H.

THE SAINT'S INHERITANCE.

THERE is a world where darksome night
Nor gloomy cloud can ever come-
A world with glory ever bright-
This is the saint's eternal home.

There spring in endless triumph reigns,
And never-fading flowers bloom;
Immortal verdure decks the plains,

For there no blighting wind can come.

And oh there is no sorrow there,
For care is never known above;
No heaving breast-no falling tear
Can mar that world of endless love.

And sin, the cause of all our woe,
Can never gain admittance there;
Nor can a seed of discord grow
In such a pure and holy sphere.

There, on a throne supremely bright,
The Great Eternal Godhead reigns,
And sheds ineffable delight

Throughout those ever-blissful plains.

And there, with all his power and grace,
Our Mediator, Jesus, pleads;

While angels, with their rapturous lays,
Proclaim redemption's wondrous deeds.

And there are those we loved so dear,
O'er whom we watch'd with grief-smote heart;
When flowed the agonizing tear,

As cruel death forced us to part.

Now freed, for ever freed from pain;
And where the sun is ever bright,
They join the seraphs' glowing strain,
Clothed in a robe of spot' ess white.

And soon, oh bliss-inspiring thought!
We too shall join them on that shore,
Whose realms with purest joys are fraught,
To love and praise for evermore.

S. S.

THOUGHTS ON MY BIRTH DAY.

FULL fifteen years have past away
Since first I saw the light of day;
Ere fifteen more have roll'd around
This mortal may be under ground.
O, Lord, now bless me while in youth,
That I may always speak the truth;
Keep me from satan's wily art,
That I from thee may ne'er depart;
Cleanse me from sin, O Lord, that I
May be prepared when called to die;
Then go to heaven to be with thee,
And praise thee through eternity.

S. H.

FOR THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR, DEC. 31, 1847.

SPARED by the goodness of the Lord,
Let us our hearts and voices raise,
His loving kindness to record,

And thus conclude the year with praise.

Each day, each night, throughout the year,
Brought fresh memorials of his love:
Our Guardian while we slept was near,
And we awoke his care to prove.

When inward conflicts broke our rest,-
When faith was weak and fears were strong,

His pity sooth'd the aching breast,

And turned our mourning into song.

Trifles our human friends estrange,—
But God remains for ever kind;
His truth and mercy cannot change,—
No varying tempests rule his mind.

To this benign and faithful friend
Our souls and bodies we commit;
On his protection we depend,—

To his good pleasure we submit.

Dear Father! hold us with thy hand;
O lead us onward in thy way,
That we may reach the heavenly land,
To spend in praise an endless day.
Abergavenny.

H. P.

J. F. WINKS, PRINTER, LEICESTER.