people of God, and fellow partakers in the great tribulation. With it our inner life begins even to vegetate and bloom. The rod which at first smote us becomes so precious, that we treasure it up in our holy of holies for verlasting remembrance.

DISAPPOINTMENTS.

The disappointments of life are to a Christian the comnandments of eternal love.

FRUITS OF AFFLICTION.

After an affliction, it seems as if the Saviour had thrown his arm around us, and drawn us still closer to his heart.

INTERCOURSE.

In intercourse with pious friends, we are in the outer court of the temple of the Lord; in the pious domestic circle lies the holy place; in the closet, in secret before Him, the holy of holies.

THE PRAYING BANKRUPT.

SOME twenty-five years since, in a town of some maritime importance, there resided a deacon, who was engaged in lucrative business. Although of prudent habits, his benevolence led him to indorse largely for one who had won his confidence as a Christian brother, but afterwards proved to be a designing knave. This issued in the good deacon's failure, when, with scrupulous integrity, every thing that could be claimed by his creditors was given up. A winter of great severity followed. His wife and young children looked to him for a subsistence which he knew not how to furnish, as his most diligent efforts for employment were unsuccessful.

A debt incurred with no prospect of payment was in his estimation sin; and he sadly saw the little stock of provisions they possessed rapidly diminishing, with no way to obtain more. He was a man of prayer as well as action, and carried the case to Him who feedeth the ravens.

Yet

At

long, weary weeks passed, and no succour came. length the morning dawned when the last stick of wood was on the fire, and little Hatty told her father that the candles were all gone; "and how," asked she, “shall we take care of dear mamma to-night?

The question went to her father's heart with dagger-like poignancy. The vision of his suffering wife gasping her life away in the last fearful stages of consumption, her comfortless sick-room, un warmed, unlighted, and the thick darkness which he knew would enshroud her mind, when made aware of the extent of their destitution, would have driven him to distraction, were it not that he had hope in One mighty to save. He fled to his closet, and there in an agony of prayer besought the Lord for help; and, forgetting all other wants, pled and pled again for the two articles now specially needed, specifying them with reiterated earnestness. He arose from his knees in full assurance of faith and with heavenly tranquillity, and went forth expecting deliverance, looking for it, however, but in one way-through his own earnings. But, after a fruitless day of seeking employment, gloomily he returned home.

He entered his gate, and was startled to see before him a generous pile of wood. Little Johnny opened the door, clapping his hands, exclaiming,

"Oh, pa, we've got some wood and some candles!"

"But where did you get them? Are you sure they were not left here by mistake."

"Oh no, pa!" interrupted Hatty," they were not left by mistake. A man knocked at the door with his whip, and when I opened it, he asked if you lived here. I told him you did. Then he said, here are some candles and a load of wood for him."

"I asked him if you sent them; and he said, I rather think your pa don't know anything about it."

"Who did send them, then?" said I.

"Oh," said he," I mustn't tell, but you may say to your father that they are a present."

But to what instrumentality they were indebted for the relief was a mystery. And what particularly interested

Deacon P. was the character of the anonymous presents,that the very things so much needed and no others, should be sent; and he was sure he had mentioned his want of them to no human ear.

He questioned the children anew. They described the man who knocked at the door, the horse and truck he drove. A new thought struck him. "Why," said he, "that team belongs to my old enemy, Graff. Can it be possible he is the donor? If so, surely the finger of God has touched his heart." Deacon P. was, however, so convinced that he was their benefactor, that he resolved on an immediate call on that gentleman.

But who was Mr. Graff?

Some years before, the sacredness of the Sabbath was openly violated by a brisk trade in fish. The hundreds of boatmen, sailors, and their friends, engaged in this desecration, were so potent in influence that nobody thought of risking interference. Deacon P., though a man of peace, was also a man of moral courage. He determined to put a stop to the iniquity. His friends warned him that his life would be endangered, but at first alone, and afterwards with a brother deacon, he would take a walk along the wharves of a Sabbath morning to ascertain who broke the laws by traffic on that day. Men swore at him like fiends, fired his dwelling at several different times, and at last "bound themselves with an oath" to kill him. Yet they feared his presence, and at his approach stores would be deserted of customers and closed with great celerity. This species of Sabbath-breaking was at length broken up, after various hair-breadth escapes on the part of Deacon P. and his compatriot, the authorities being shamed into action by their fearless zeal.

The brutal drunkenness of the sailors, and the degradation and suffering of their families, with whieh Deacon P. was in his enterprise brought into contact, opened his eyes to the evils of the liquor traffic; and, turning over his Sabbath reform to the legal authorities, he became known as a temperance advocate. This also brought him enemies, sometimes changing even friends into foes. Distiller Graff was

among the latter, from a warm friend becoming bitterly alienated. In vain did the grieved deacon strive to conciliate by explanation and personal kindness. Even the trifling civility of a bow was rudely unnoticed by Mr. Graff. Deacon P. entered the distillery of his old friend. For the first time for years its proprietor looked up with a nod and smile of recognition. It was evident something unusual had softened his heart.

"I have called," said the deacon, " to ask if you can tell me who sent some wood and candles to my house to-day? Yes, sir, I sent them."

66

"You are very kind; but pray, tell me how you came to do so?"

"But first let me inquire if you really needed them? "Oh, I cannot express to you how much!"

"Well, then, I suppose I must explain," said Mr. Graff. "It's all very singular, and sometimes seems very foolish. This morning, about ten o'clock, as I was busy at my work, suddenly a voice seemed to say to me, 'Send some wood to Deacon P.; he is in want!' I was astonished. I could not believe you needed it. And I could not send it to you of all others. I tried to banish the thought, and went to work again more earnestly. But the voice, it seemed within me, said again with painful distinctness, "Send some wood to Deacon P.; he is in want!' I scouted the idea as weak and silly,-a mere phantasy of the brain; but it was of no use; I had to succomb. The more I ridiculed and fought it, the more vivid and irresistible was the impression, until to purchase peace, and in some awe, I confess, I bade John load his team with wood, and leave it at your door."

"For a moment I was at rest; but only for a moment. The imperative whisper came, 'Send some candles!' Said I to myself, this is too absurd; I will not gratify this whim. But again I was so beset with the mandate, and so distressed and baffled in repelling it, that as a cheap way to get out of torment, I handed John a package of candles also.

"This matter has been in my mind ever since. Sometimes I have thought it almost a freak of insanity, and then, again, such was the strange character of the impression, so

unexpected, so solemn, and powerful, and such the singular peace following compliance with its dictates, that I almost believe it to be supernatural."

"It is indeed the doings of Him who is wonderful in working," replied Deacon P. 'It was about ten o'clock, I well remember, that I pled with God for the very articles you sent me. It was then, too, that my soul was filled with the conviction that my prayer was heard and relief would come."

Since hearing a venerated relative relate this incident in his own life, we have often wondered how the sceptic can dispose of such occurrences. While it would be presumption for the believer to expect to live by prayer alone, to be fed without his own co-operation, as was Elijah, yet are there not events happening all along the history of the church, in the experiences of individual members, to be accounted for only on the ground of a special Providence regardful of the emergencies of the believing, suffering people of God? Surely, "light is sown for the righteous," and to them,

"The deepest dark reveals the starriest hope."

VARIETIES.

SWEARING REPROVED.

AN American planter had a favourite domestic negro, who waited at his table. His master was a profane person, and often took the name of God in vain. Whenever he did so, the negro made a low and solemn bow. On being asked why he did this, he replied, that he never heard this great name mentioned, but it filled his whole soul with reverence and awe.

His master took the Lint without offence, and was reclaimed from a very sinful and pernicious practice by his pious slave. The poorest Christian may thus be encouraged in the faithful discharge of duty. "A word fitly spoken, how good it is."