Her class-leader and teachers, with other Christian friends who visited her, beheld her peaceful state of mind and resignation to God; this reminds me of what she stated in the class-meeting to her fellow travellers to Zion. She said, nearly the last time she was with us, in that means of grace, the buds of sin were removed from her guilty conscience; she could then feel the Spirit of adoption in her soul; verily she could say, Abba Father, my Lord and my God. During her illness, she was heard to express her feelings by repeating the following passages from the 23rd Psalm.-"Yea, though I walk through the valley and the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." And also Proverbs, Chapter 15. In one of my visits to her, I opened the Bible to read with her: on doing so, I found the above chapter particularly marked with black lead, and more particularly the early part of it. “A soft answer turneth away wrath," and so on. She was heard to say, with a faltering voice, just before she died, "I long to depart to be with Jesus. Come, Jesus, Come Jesus,! O Jesus, come quickly! Soon after, she fell asleep in the arms of her Friend and Saviour. Her end was peace. Blessed are the dead which die in Lord. F. W. STAPLES.

ENCOURAGEMENTS AND DISCOURAGEMENTS. "Be ye strong therefore, and let not your hands be weak; for your work shall be rewarded. 2 Chron. xv. 7.

Who has not had encouragements; yes, and discouragements also; we have all had encouragements from our Father in heaven and good people on earth, to persevere in the way everlasting, and in good deeds, and, on the other hand, we have all had discouragements or temptations from the father of lies, to follow the way that leads to death, and to go on in evil works; we have all been discouraged from pursuing after that which is good; and how often has the great Tempter tried hard to block up

our path with obstacles, hoping thereby to prevent us from leaving his broad way, leading to ruin. He loves not that any should walk in the narrow road, which leads to eternal life. Oh let him not accomplish his purpose! But most of us are more easily discouraged than encouraged, even when engaged in God's service, we soon say, "It is too much, I am not equal to it," too many of us are ready to

"By the road side fall and perish,

Weary with the march of life."

It should not be so, our Heavenly Father has promised to give to his people, whatsoever they shall ask, believing, and, "He knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are dust," let us all pray that our faith may be enlarged and strengthened in Him, who says, "My grace is sufficient for thee." Well was it for Mary Grant, that she had a kind, and judicious mother, who was always ready to unlock the store-house of her own experience and take thence for the comfort and instruction of her children. Mary, returning from the Sabbath-school one afternoon, evidently much distressed, being lovingly questioned by her mother as to the cause of her sorrow, answered, "Oh mama, Bessie Dunn tells me that she and her mother are going to remove to London to-morrow. Her father has been there some weeks, and keeps a small beer-house, I fear much for Bessie, she has never been a steady girl, and seems quite delighted when thinking of the change; she will never attend a place of worship, or a Sundayschool, for when I asked her, she replied, "I shall have plenty to do instead." "What can I do, mama? I have taken more pains with Bessie than with any other of my scholars, for she was always unruly, and now she is going into the midst of temptations she will hardly wish to resist." "My dear daughter, be not faithless, but believing, you can still pray for this poor girl, pray to God that He would at some future time, let you see the fruit of your labours. Although the seed you have sown appears to have fallen on barren ground, yet He says, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many

days." In my own Sabbath-school teaching days, an incident occurred in my class, similar to that on account of which you now grieve, and in its happy result, God was pleased to reprove me for my unfaithfulness. Charlotte

Wild gave me more trouble than all the other girls in my class. She seldom attended school, and when she did come, was always late. She was deaf to all my remonstrances, and was encouraged by her mother in all her wicked practices. Ah! if I had but had more faith in God's wisdom, and goodness, then much anxiety would have been spared me, but I despaired of Charlotte and indulged in many rebellious feelings respecting her. Very suddenly Charlotte and her mother left our pretty village to go to a large manufacturing town, her father having gone a little while before to look out for work, and a dwelling. I murmuringly thought, now it is all over with Charlotte, she is without the love of God in her heart, and her parents will encourage her to follow the evil examples, by which she will be surrounded. For many years nothing was heard of the Wilds, until one summer when your father and I were in London. We were returning from Divine Service one Sunday evening, and had chosen some narrow, dark lanes, as being a shorter way to our lodgings.

Emerging from one of these, we met Mrs. Wild, but so changed, that, at first, I did not recognize her. The once clean and neat woman was dirty, and haggard, and evidently the victim of drunkenness. Though irreligious, Mrs. Wild had always, when at Fairfield, been remarkably tidy in her personal appearance: indeed she seemed to make to herself a god of cleanliness, staying at home every Sunday to "tidy up," and scolding her husband and daughter violently, if they made the least mark on the spotless floor and furniture. When she saw us, she burst into tears, and begged that we would visit her daughter who, she said was very ill, and often spoke of Fairfield, and the instructions she had received in the Sabbath-school there. We promised to see Charlotte on the ensuing morning, and accordingly went. We had expected to find,

the poor girl ill-but she was dying,-it was impossible she could live many days, she was so wasted by fever, and harassed with a racking cough. But thanks be to our Heavenly Father, the simple instructions I had been permitted to give to this dying girl in the Sunday-school at Fairfield, had returned to her memory in hours of want and affliction; she had been led to look to Jesus, and to trust in Him as her Redeemer. Charlotte was alone, her mother having departed notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of her child, in search of more drink. From poor Charlotte we understood that the family had been in London two or three years, having removed thither in the hope of obtaining employment. Her father, a carpenter by trade, had at last found work, but it was on board an East Indiaman, bound for Calcutta. He had sailed in this vessel for that distant port, and, since his departure, his wife and child had received no intelligence of, or from him. Meanwhile, Charlotte had endeavoured to support herself with her needle, but the wretched payment given for her work was insufficient to provide her with daily bread. Hard work, and late hours, together with want of proper food and clothing, had thrown the poor girl into a consumption, of which she then lay dying. The mother at first tried to earn a little money by going out as a washer-woman, but having been tempted to commit, what she called some little thefts which could not be found out, and having once been detected,-she was shunned by every lady, and could no where obtain employment,-she had since fallen from bad to worse, and eventually become a drunkard. And O! Mrs. Grant,' continued poor Charlotte, how often have I regretted that I did not take your kind advice and remain at Fairfield,—and still more, that I did not give my heart to God, when I was young. He has seen fit to bring me through great tribulation, that I might acknowledge Him to be the one God,— Lord of lords, and King of kings, and I believe He will receive me into a heavenly habitation when I die. I shall not be here long, will you look to my poor mother when I am gone. When my father comes home, tell him,

that his poor Charlotte died happy, poor no longer, but rich in the inestimable love of Christ. Charlotte died about a week after our first visit, during which time I was frequently with her, and always found her in a humble, happy frame of mind. No one knew the exact time of her death,—she had expressed a wish to sleep, we left her a moment, and then returning anxiously watched her pale sweet face, a smile like that of an angel passed over it-then followed one or two short breaths, and a gentle sigh,-soon we found she was indeed, "asleep in Jesus." In a year or two Charlotte's father returned from Indiathe happy death of their daughter made a deep and salutary impression upon the minds of both her parents, and, by the grace of God, they were led to give their hearts to Him, and to devote their lives to His service.

Dear reader, it would take long to tell how Bessie Dunn was at last led, by God's Holy Spirit, to repent of her sins, and to turn from her evil ways to a merciful, and sin pardoning God, whose ways are, ways of pleasantness.

Dear fellow teacher, We know that, "He that goeth forth weeping, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bearing his sheaves with him." Be not discouraged, but, looking to Jesus, work diligently,you will find your encouragements outnumber your discouragements. "But this I say, he that soweth sparingly, shall reap also sparingly; and, he who soweth bountifully, shall reap also bountifully." Sow not sparingly, hold not thy hand; though you may think it is useless to speak to this or that careless child, despair not, give, "here a little, and there a little,"-God knows best-He has commanded you to, "feed His lambs," and you know not, whether that little one may not become one of the brightest ornaments of God s church on earth, and finally praise Him in heaven. Your smallest word,-your slightest action,-if said, or done, with a due regard to the glory of your Heavenly Master, will not be allowed by Him, to fall to the ground fruitless.

"Sow in the morn thy seed,

At eve hold not thine hand;