ITTLE ONES SHOULD LEARN
TO PRAY.

Do not mean that children should earn to say their prayers, and nothing hore; though I would not say a Ford against those holy forms which oure all learned, I trust, as soon as our ifant tongues could lisp "Our Dather." These little prayers are onnected with too many sacred 3; 1emories to be laid aside.

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But I would have children pray dheir own prayers. I would have hem go to their dear Father above, ast as they would to their parents n earth, telling Him how they love Him, confessing their faults, and sking forgiveness.

I think that the sweetest prayers I ever heard, were from two little children. Ella was five years old, and Jamie two; and every one who loves children, knows how interesting hey may be at those ages. I loved o hear their child-talk, their innocent prattle; but most of all I loved to

hear their prayers, and if friends were in at that hour, I could not forbear saying, "Come, let us learn of these little ones how to pray."

Ella was naturally full of life and fun, and sometimes rude. So her mother had selected for her a little prayer, beginning,

"Lord, look upon a little child, By nature sinful, rude and wild," which she repeated after "Our Father, "&c. Then came a prayer of her own. I well remember how Jamie, who was at this time but the echo of his little sister, lay in his little crib, while Ella at her mother's knee was praying her child prayer. When she said, "Make Ella a good girl," he would call out, "Make Jamie a good boy." That first little prayer I believe God has heard; for it has ever since seemed to be Jamie's wish to be "a good boy." He has grown up to be, indeed, a good boyloving, kind, and gentle in all his S. S. T.

ways.

ALL spiritual prayer is produced by the Holy Spirit; He convinces us of need, discovers to us the fulness of Jesus, leads us to the throne of grace, and helps our infirmities there. The very desire to pray is from Him, and the liberty we enjoy in prayer is His gift. But how dreadful a thing is sin, and how condescending is the Holy Spirit! He sympathizes with us, and maketh intercession for us, with unutterable expressions of distress; with groanings which cannot be uttered. Sin has rendered us so vile, that no sacrifice but that of the Son of God Himself, could atone for us; and so weak, that none but the Holy Spirit can enable us to pray with fervour, faith, and success. See, beloved, how deep are your obligations, and how great your dependence upon this blessed Spirit of grace and suppli

cation. Be careful lest you grieve Him by your lightness, worldliness, or lukewarmness; but sow unto the Spirit, and ye shall reap life everlasting. He will testify to you of Jesus, and bless you with liberty and peace.

"I want a heart to pray,

To pray and never cease; Never to murmur at the stay, Or wish my sufferings less, I want a godly fear,

A quick discerning eye, That looks to thee when sin is near, And sees the tempter fly."

DYING.

WHEN the excellent Dr. Conyers said, "I am not afraid of death but of dying," he expressed the feelings of many sincere Christians. They dread not what is after death, but the putting off their tabernacles.

The violent disruption of soul and body-"the pains and groans, and dying strife"-these are what they fear, and not that to which they lead. That to which they lead is attractive. The Canaan beyond the Jordan they long for, and joyfully anticipate. It is the crossing of the Jordan which they dread. Often, however, when they reach its banks, it is less formidable than they had supposed. The waves run not high, the everlasting arms are underneath them, and shining ones on the opposite shore beckon them to come.

EXAMPLE.

THE best inheritance a parent can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed remembrance and associations. The beauty of holiness beaming through the life of a loved relative or friend, is more effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down, than precept, command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of its moral power,-not to the precepts or parables of Christ,-but to His own character.

CHOICE OF BOOKS.

SOME books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books, also, may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in the less important and meaner sort of books; else distilled books are like common distilled waters-flashy things.-Bacon.

COMFORTING THOUGHTS. WHY should not a man that would die at all, be as willing at thirty or forty, if God sees fit, as at seventy

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or eighty? Length of time doth not conquer corruption; it never withers and decays through age. Except we receive an addition of grace, as well as time, we naturally grow worse. "O my soul, depart in peace!" As thou wouldst not desire an unlimited estate in wealth or honour, so desire it not in point of time. How many of the precious servants of God, of all ages and places, have gone before thee! Thou art not to enter an untrodden path, nor appointed first to break the ice. Except Enoch and Elijah, which of the saints have escaped death? And art thou better than they? There are many millions of saints dead, more than now remain on the earth. What a number of thine own bosom friends and companions in duty are now gone, and why shouldst thou be so loth to follow?-Baxter.

THE LOST SISTER. OH, sister, darling sister,

I long for you to-day;
I want you, when I'm sitting still;
I want you when I play.

The boys are kind and gentle,
And the baby fair to see;
But there's none like you, dear sister,
There's none like you to me.
You went away so quickly;
You never said, "Good-bye;"
I want to kiss your cheek again,
And look into your eye.
Are you in heaven, sister?
Is it very far away?
Oh, is it such a "happy land ?"
And do you want to stay?
I wish that I could see you,

Among the angels bright;
I wish that I could hear you,
Singing "both day and night."
They tell me Jesus loves you,

In your new, glorious home;
Oh, sister, won't He love me too?
And won't He let me come?

Oh, Jesus, high and holy !

Oh, Jesus, kind and mild!
Help me to love and follow Thee;
Help me to be Thy child!