As Robert grew a little older he learned to think of the evils that are in the world, and compared them with some of the fearful descriptions of his book. The black smoke of a distant town reminded him of the Valley of the Shadow of Death; and when he passed by, among the rude sights and sounds of a neighbouring village, he could not help thinking of Vanity Fair, and humming over, as a charm, some of Bunyan's verses.

When sitting upon the hearth at home he loved to talk of his father's death, and all the difficult questions which children are apt to ask about God and heaven, the soul of man, and eternity, he put to his mother, who answered them better than many would. The boy had made for himself a little Christian world, in which he lived, and in which, heaven so ordered it, he died, before any of the mockeries of the great world about us could break in upon his fair visions and disturb his believing mind. His mother took care never to disturb and burden his thoughts with the doubts and the evils of the world, but kept all her remarks in unison with the prevailing disposition of his mind. He believed that many pilgrims were still passing through the world; and his mother told him that Milton Church was one of the resting-places appointed on the way by the King of the Celestial City, and that the minister was stationed there to wait upon the pilgrims; and when he heard that in the sacrament the bread of heaven was dispensed to refresh the pilgrims, he begged that he might partake of it. He was allowed, and never was a communicant more thankful and believing.

Sometimes, while the Psalms were chanted in the church, feelings more than he could express overcame him, and he would lean his head upon his mother's arm and weep. His mother regarded this and many other similar things as signs of an early departure from earth; for heaven does not bloom here long, but, like a certain beautiful lily, just unfolds and closes, leaving us to shed tears over the withered leaves.

Robert had very delicate health, but was too much engaged with the thoughts that filled his growing mind to think or speak much of the pains of his body. But many pains he endured upon the hills, which he never mentioned to his mother; and one day, as he sat reading in his book, he raised his eyes, and suddenly the whole landscape seemed to swim around him, and he sank down and lay senseless upon the turf for some time. His mother, missing him at the appointed hour of return, went out to meet him, and found him, pale and trembling, creeping slowly along, with his book clasped in his hand.

"I think, mother (said he), I shall never go upon the hills again." She put him to bed, with the dear " Pilgrim's Progress" under his pillow; and from that bed he never rose again.

His mother sometimes, during his affliction, read the book to him; but had often to desist, as it made him weep.

He was not alone in his affliction-Christian, and Faithful, and Hopeful, Christiana and all her children, sweet Mercy, and Great

heart, and the good Interpreter, and the shepherds of the Delectable Mountains-all were with him in his sick chamber and, frequently a view of the glorious city over the waters broke upon him.

The minister came and prayed with him. "Thank you, sir (said Robert); I am a young pilgrim, and am called very early to cross the river; but other little boys have gone across before. I hope you will guide others safely."

Many of his mother's friends came to see him, and to all he spoke so sweetly in the style of his favourite book, that his words were never forgotten; and it may be said, even of that little preacher from the bed of affliction, "he, being dead, yet speaketh." And one evening he suddenly awoke from a short, happy, smiling slumber, and said, "Mother! I see Christiana and all her good children, all in white, on the other side of the water. They stretch out their hands to me! Good bye, mother! The river is cold, but I shall soon be over." He closed his eyes, reached out his hands while his mother held them-and breathed no more.

Good little pilgrim! He fulfilled his life-task bravely. Might we but fulfil ours as well! He never wasted his life in doubt; never denied what heaven and his heart told him; never reduced the world around him to a dreary mechanical thing without a soul, and without comfort and instruction for the human soul. He lived and died full of faith, and love, and truth. His mother wept for him, but not bitterly; for she knew that he had done his work. His short day of life was no failure. He diffused all the good influence he could upon earth, and then went back to Paradise, where no flowers wither. His was a sweet utterance-a word from heaven -now silent; but the meaning never dies. It is in the souls of thousands of children at this hour.

But how much we discourage all childlike faith, and love, and hope, by our doubts and disputes. Our children's ears are aunoyed with the clamour of contending parties, when they should hear the voice of love, saying, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

Meanwhile how many lovely flowers are nipped in the bud by the cold frosty element around them, because they have looked out upon a world not prepared to cherish them; like plants from sunny India, transferred to our northern soil, which just look out of the ground, and, disappointed with the cold, ungenial air and lowering heavens, close their bright eyes again and sink into the dust.

There is a beauty in the souls of little children which has never been fully expressed to the world; but it must be. The winter shall pass away, and the bloom of a bright spring will so renew the world that such children as Robert Dewberry may live in it many years, without losing their faith and love.

653

THE POPPY.

THEY bring me flowers, the beautiful and gay,
To rest my heart on, and to lure away
Thought from its darkened cage.
For me the summer's regal rose

Through April's changing climate blows;

The gentle pink spreads wide her suppliant page-
The rich carnations, deeply flushed with pride,
Lift up the head,
And perfume shed

From their o'erflowing censers far and wide;
The bright geranium's patrician bloom
Luxuriates beside,

And sheds affection's light on suffering's gloom.
And other flowers they bring me here,
Within whose simple bells

A spell more lasting and more dear
To feeling's empire dwells-

Spring's wildings scattered o'er the earth,
Like dimples on the face of mirth.

Go, memory, with the violet, far away,
Unto the village bank, that still

First meets the sun's returning ray

Go to the wild wood with the wind-flower-
The sweet briar's twining there a bower,

And trembling bluebells round the air with childhood fill.
No love the daisy asks or gives-
Always and everywhere it lives

(Type of those lips that smile on all the same,
Unarm'd by love, unchill'd by blame);
Yet let it be,

One charm for me

It has, for o'er the village tombs

Of silv'ry turf I love, the daisy ever blooms.

I love them all-the sweet and graceful things!

But pain its shadow o'er them flings,

And bids me see

Only one brilliant weed, whose pow'r

Was scorned in childhood's careless hour

Oh! thou that in the time of need,

When suffering bows the trembling knee,
Becomes a deity indeed.

Poppy! I've learnt to hail thee now—
I bind thy chaplet on my brow:

Give me, ah! give me rest. Restrain,
Or still, at least, the rack of pain-
Only for this be blessing paid,

Nor may I ask thy aid

To dull the mind's disease, or sin, or misery.

J. L. H.

654

THE RELATION IN WHICH THE MORAL PRECEPTS OF THE NEW AND OLD TESTAMENT STAND TO EACH OTHER.

(Continued from page 223).

BY ZONA.

"YE are bought with a price (argues the apostle), therefore glorify God;" because the people of God are brought into this relationship, therefore they are expressly called upon to extol the praises of their great Proprietor. Christ is the author of eternal salvation to those, and to those only, who obey him. All those, therefore, who would see the face of God in any measure of freedom from alarm-which is sure to come over the distressed spirit who refuses the homage due to his Maker-must, by a holy life, glorify their Maker upon earth.*"Without holiness no man shall see the Lord." (Heb. xii. 14). To this end was man created, and made so in a pre-eminent degree; for, as Bishop Hopkins observes, " Irrational creatures were made to glorify God only objectively; man was made to glorify God actively and intentionally." The works of creation present, as it were, "footsteps of God's most glorious attributes and perfections." The heavens are said to glorify God; but man has this as the aim of all his being that he set forth the praises of his omnipotent God. Woe, therefore, to man if he glorify not his Creator and Preserver. But, alas it is too true, that instead of doing this, every ungodly person is dethroning the divine attributes from his heart; while it is no less certain that God will have glory from all, and therefore from them, either by their obedience or by their destruction. It is a fearful thing for a creature of this Almighty Being to oppose himself to the vengeance of an eternal Lawgiver; for what else is this but to be everlastingly ruined, when that opposition is crushed beneath the growing power of that mighty energy by which all things must be subdued? But since we are so feeble against the power of our great moral Governor, are not we also unable to withstand the force of evil in ourselves and in the world? It is true-most true it is—that the human spirit is now powerless against that mass of opposing elements which the "god of this world," as we read in Scripture, puts forth against those who would take hold on eternal life; and therefore believers are exhorted to take the whole armour of God-they wrestle not against flesh and blood. In the presence of that noble throng of spectators—that great array of witnesses, the holy angels and the just made perfect, they wrestle against the powers of darkness. They must, if they would hope for victory, put on the whole armour of God. Bright and happy spirits, of vast power and prowess, look on, while the feeble believer-feeble in himself, but strong in this divine panoply-presses on toward the mark of his high calling. If we did but exercise vigorous faith in the promises contained in Scripture, we should view this wrestling with evil here as a noble

* Bishop Hopkins, Vol. iii., “On Glorifying God.

+ Ibid.

strife amidst noble spectators-a scene well worthy of the attention of the universe; for God is glorified not only in the issue, but in the venture. Who can fail, who can be dismayed, when the great Captain of our salvation is holding out a crown of life-when saints above and the mighty myriads of the army of heaven, strong in immortality-beings, compared with whom for prowess the most renowned of men must sink into insignificance-are looking on, while here below is transacting the good fight of faith, in which the Almighty attributes are so much displayed-nay, while God himself vouchsafes to be declared the great Arbiter and the Judge of all? It is thus plain enough for all that have eyes to see and ears to hear, that faith in the promises enables a person to glorify the Almighty -this being the purpose of man's creation.

It is because God has promised, that man is called upon to believe. Uncovenanted mercies cannot thus exercise faith. To say that we believe, when we have no ground for believing, is to make faith itself the offspring of a blind fancy. But believing the word of God, and taking it as we find it, and resting our hope upon each promise which that word contains, therefore it is that we are enabled to prove by our own experience what faith is. The first exercise of genuine faith is to "believe what God is ;" and the next step is to believe that he is the Rewarder of them that diligently seek him. Thus, when we read, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," there are obviously two ways in which genuine faith exercises itself in this particular instance. The first way in which a person can exhibit belief in divine things is by crediting the existence of the Divine Being; the second way is by looking forward to the actings of that Being as manifested towards his creatures. And so again, when a person would be saved by Christ, his first duty is to believe that Christ is a Saviour; and his second duty is to apply to him as the Saviour whom he needs. The grounds of faith are the promises given us in the Scriptures, "that whosoever cometh to Christ he will in nowise cast out." And on these words a strong faith can build, as on a sure foundation, such a fabric of assurance, as that no assaults of evil, from within or from without, shall be able to assail. It is contrary to the attributes of this great Intercessor so to treat feeble supplicants; and faith may reason in this manner, and so make its own assurance doubly sure. Besides which, the natural reason which God has given his creature man is enough to present this thought constantly before his mind, namely, that what God has promised he is most certainly able to perform. Nor is this salvation merely a deliverance from a vast ruin, as regards only the happiness of his creatures, though our Creator does not despise the satisfaction which his creatures can take in the right use of his providential gifts: it is a deliverance from the thraldom of sin-a freedom from a worse bondage than that which the Israelites in Egypt suffered from the tyranny of that service, the wages of which is death; it is not to be exempted from the wages only, but from the dominion and from the service of iniquity. Our Creator, the Supreme Governor of the universe, has a work for all his ran