tive, and receiving gifts for men-the gift of eternal life for all who believe in Him, and the gift of the Holy Spirit that the believer might be sanctified, guided and brought at last safely to his presence in glory.

Have

JESUS-the Saviour which you need—able to save you, willing to save you, waiting to save you. you a doubt of his ability? examine the proofs; mark the assertions of his divinity; scrutinize the minute fulfilments of prophecy; and then acknowledge, "This is He that should come." Have you a suspicion of his willingness? Is it possible? Can invitation be more ample, more affectionate, more earnest ? Can the declarations of the freeness of redeeming love be more explicit. "He is willing, doubt no more." Can you forget that He is waiting to receive you? "He waiteth to be gracious." Exalted to the right hand of God, He yet liveth to intercede in the sinner's behalf. He is now looking down upon you with his smile of love, and saying to you by his Providence, his Ministers, his Word and his Spirit, "Look unto Me and be ye saved."

There is yet another question-HAVE I BELIEVED IN THE SAVIOUR? How will you answer it?

It is not enough that you are aware of your danger; most anxious to escape from it; and painfully conscious that you cannot save yourself. Many persons get as far as this. They think they shall be saved, because they have correct views about themselves-nay, even about the atonement of Christ-and, because they fancy they are seeking salvation. The devils in hell are aware of their misery, would escape from it if they could, know that that is impossible, and discern the nature of a salvation which will never be theirs. They believe, and tremble.

Nothing short of faith in Christ will save your soul. Believe, and Live. But what is saving faith?

It is "believing the record God hath given of his Son." It is such an assent to the great doctrines of

the Atonement as experimentally awakens the sympathies of the heart, and practically influences the actions of the life. It is faith which worketh by love, which by its outward expressions manifests its internal and vital power.

Have you then believed in Christ-have you so believed in Him, as to rely completely and satisfiedly upon his work and merits? Have you received Him as your Saviour, in full acknowledgment of his attributes and his offices? Have you received Him into your heart? Is his love powerfully shed abroad there? Does He so dwell there, by the Spirit, that we can speak of "Christ in you, the hope of glory"? Do you feel the truth and the blessedness of the fact, that the believer is one with Christ, and that Christ is one with him ?

Have you devoted yourself to His service? Have you made a cheerful, entire and perpetual dedication of body, soul, and spirit? Are you his now, and his for ever? Are you a living sacrifice ?

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Are you making this consecration apparent? Does your speech bewray you as one of this Man's disciples "? Are your actions fashioned after his example? Are you striving to live for God's glory, and the welfare of your fellow creatures? Are you glorifying Christ? If I were to be in your presence, should I feel that Christ was not far off?

Do you hold communion with the Saviour? I cannot believe you have faith in Him, unless you also have fellowship. When your knee is bent in prayer, is it merely the outward attitude which is devout; is there no loving reverence yielded by the heart as in the presence of an Almighty Friend? When the lips move in supplication or thanksgiving, is it only a solemn form, uttered by a thoughtless tongue; is there no deep, heart-felt response which renders the words the expression of "the soul's sincere desire "?

I would hope you are a believer; then I know you

are useful in your day and generation, happy and attractive in your religious life, cheerful and contented in adversity and disappointments, and, by a holy and consistent walk, are "a living epistle, known and read of all men." May great grace rest upon you; may your life be a perpetual hallelujah, and your death be the anticipation of glory!

Reader, you and I shall meet again. will you then give to these questions?

What answer

W. M. W.

THE WEARY PILGRIM.

Oh, travel-worn and weary-hearted pilgrim,
Why droopest thou?

Why is thy footstep, once so firm and buoyant,
Slow and enfeebled now?

Why are the shades of sadness thickly gathered
Upon thy brow?

Thy way is long, and desolate, and lonely;—
Home far off seems :-

Bright visions of futurity have faded,

As pass away our dreams ;

And through the mist that wraps thy troubled spirit
Hope rarely gleams.

Thou canst not hear the distant songs of angels,
So sweet and clear,

Which, like glad music wafted o'er the water,

Fall softly on thine ear;

But strong temptations, and thoughts all-discordant,
Fill thee with fear.

Cheer up, my brother! thine is but the conflict
Each pilgrim shares;

Alike your struggles; and your sad complainings,
Facsimiles of theirs!

Nor marvel at the discipline, since labour

For rest prepares.

Courage! press onwards! for each step thou takest
Shortens thy way;

Have patience, and the road so rough and rugged,
Which tires thy feet to-day,

Will change to-morrow for the soft green pastures,
With flowerets gay.

If hearts have braved so much to find the passage
To the North Pole,

Should not those difficulties be surmounted

Which would impede thy soul;

When thou art certain, if thou perseverest,
To reach the goal?

Think of the pilgrims who have safely gained it,
From toil now freed!

Think of the Saviour who is ever near thee,
To help in time of need!

Think of the glories of the life eternal!
Pilgrim, God speed!

H. M. W.

MINNIE SUTHERLAND.

BY ALICE HAWTHORNE.

Chapter IV.-The New Shepherd.

MINNIE and her cousin had scarcely reached home, and taken off their bonnets, when Claude came running up stairs.

"Papa and I have just seen somebody; guess who it is, Minnie."

"Somebody! how very descriptive, Claude! why I might go over all the people in the town before I hit upon the right one."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't," said Claude; "you would be sure to think of-there, I had almost told you. Well,

I will make it easy for you, by informing you, that my somebody is a person of very great importance, of whom we have often spoken lately, and whom you are curious to see."

"Aunt Grace ?"

"Aunt Grace! You never will stop to think, Minnie. You would be glad, not curious to see her; and she isn't a very important person."

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'I am sure she is to me; and I only wish I could see her now. I dare say it's nobody after all.”

"Yes, indeed it is."

"A lady, or a gentleman ?"

"A gentleman."

"Clever ?"

"Yes."

"Ernest Heathwood ?"

Claude laughed.

"Mr. Heathwood's poetry has

quite turned your head, Minnie; though I'm sure it seems very hum-drum stuff to me."

"That is because you don't understand it, Claude. Everybody else admires it."

Everybody! The writer in that review we had last week, for instance."

"Oh, he wrote out of envy; or a determination to find fault," said Minnie; I know he did. I don't value his opinion in the least. Have you read any of

Mr. Heathwood's poems, Edith ?"

Edith had not seen them.

"Then you will have a nice treat," said Minnie; "and we can talk them over together."

"Perhaps Edith is unpoetical, like me," suggested Claude."

"Oh, no, she is not," said Minnie; "all ladies are fond of poetry. You are on my side, are you not, Edith ?" "I believe so," said Edith, smiling; "I certainly like to read good poetry when I can find it."

"Come," said Claude, "never mind the poets just now; guess again, Minnie.'