adult population retain some recollection of, and are somewhat influenced by, the remembrance of the days of their youth, when they heard of GOD and His laws and a future state. They have not succeeded quite in casting off all moral restraint. Some retain an affectionate recollection of the Church and school which arose near their native spot, and which in their younger days they loved to frequent. Conscience has in such a barrier over which they may not with impunity pass. This restrains them more than laws can do. But this remaining check will be quite wanting in multitudes of the rising generation. They have never had the means of grace-never have been 'where bells have knolled to church'never attended a school where moral discipline was taught. Great fears may well be entertained for the country, if something is not done to rescue from ignorance these multitudes of her sons. Religion and patriotism unite their voice in this object.' From the Thirty-second Report of the National Society.

A PRAYER FOR ILLUMINATION.

[This is a hymn in the same sort of flowing prose as the Psalms are translated into in the Prayer Book. Each verse is divided by a colon (:) into two nearly equal portions. Such hymns should be chanted.]

THE sun hath gone up in his brightness: he is seated on his throne of noon.

He hath clad himself royally with glory he maketh the beams his messengers;

And sendeth down gifts upon earth: his light upon all nations.

O how beauteous is Thy majesty: how mighty is Thy power;

Which Thou hast revealed in Thine image: O Sun of Righteousness and King of Glory.

So shine into mine heart: and let the light of Thy Word fill it with joy.

Search out every dark hiding-place: drag every fearful secret forth,

And convict them all before Thy light: and cast them out of their possession.

Then shall my spirit be enlightened to maintain Thy truth and my body shall be full of light.

And I, a child of light, will rejoice in Thy glory: and praise Thy name for evermore.

This sun, which I behold, shall be cast down from heaven his lamp of light shall be quenched in the sky for ever.

But my song shall still be praising Thy light: my harp shall still be celebrating Thy glory.

O Lord, Thy saints shall live and praise Thee for ever and ever before the dwelling-place of Thy unapproachable glory.-Rev. R. W. Evans, author of The Rectory of Valehead.'

A DIALOGUE ON SUFFERING.

AMY again anxiously asked Emily, whether Dr. Bailey really said that her mamma would get well? "He thinks and hopes she will," replied Emily, "but no one can be certain."

"But if she should not," said Amy, as she leant her head on Miss Morton's shoulder, and her tears flowed afresh,—

"If she should not," replied Emily, "would you not try to think of her happiness, even if it were your sorrow?"

Amy tried to recover herself, but the effort was almost beyond her. "I could not live without her," she said in a broken voice.

"Yes," replied Emily, "you can; we all can learn to submit to whatever is the will of God; and we can learn to think suffering a blessing, and to thank Him for it, even more than for joy; but you will not understand this now."

"To live here," said Amy, following the course of her own thoughts,

"You must not think of it," replied Emily; "GOD may, in mercy, grant you many years of happiness, in your own home; but there is no place where He is, which may not be your home. Will you endeavour to think of this, dearest? I know it is true," she added in a low voice, "for I have no home."

"Oh! if I could be like you," exclaimed Amy, earnestly recalled for the moment from the thought of her own sorrow.

"Do not wish that," said Emily; "but there is One whom we must all learn to be like, and His life was but one continued scene of suffering. never have to bear what He bore."

We can

"I am very wicked," said Amy; "but I will try to think as you do; only it is so hard."

"You need not make yourself unhappy now," said Emily, "by dwelling on a trial, which may be far off. I cannot see any great cause for anxiety; only it is well at times to think of sorrow, even in the midst of happiness, that we may be the better prepared to meet it."

"I thought," said Amy, "that I should never be unhappy, till I grew old."

"And so I thought once," replied Emily. "But, Amy, before we were either of us conscious of existence, we were both dedicated to the Saviour, who died for us, and the sign of His suffering was marked upon our foreheads: it would be worse than weakness to shrink from following His footsteps, because He calls us to it early.'

"And must I be miserable?" said Amy.

"No, never," answered Emily, eagerly; "misery is for those who cannot feel that they have a Father in heaven and therefore it is, that when we are too happy, and begin to forget Him, He sends us sorrow to recall us to Himself."

"Mamma told me something like that once," said

"You must not fancy it is come, dearest," replied Emily, "and you must not think, whatever happens, that you will be miserable. In this place least of all; because every thing in a Church reminds us, that we have GOD to watch over us, and our SAVIOUR to love us, and Holy Angels to guard us."

Amy raised her head, and for a few moments gazed in silence upon the still, solemn beauty of the chapel. "It is better to be here," she said at last, "than in the drawing-room with the lights and the music."

"You can feel so now," replied Emily, "because you are unhappy, and when you have had more trials you will feel so always. When persons have suffered much, and borne their afflictions with patience and thankfulness, they become in a degree calm and composed, as that marble figure beneath us; for their eyes are closed to the sights of the world, and their hearts are raised continually to heaven. Only think how good the saints and martyrs were, of whom you have often read: it was trial and suffering which made them so."

"Oh! yes," replied Amy, "but who can be like them?"

"We can," answered Emily, "if we really wish and try to be. When we were baptized, you know GOD gave us His Holy Spirit, to enable us to obey Him; and you know also, that He will give it to us more and more every day, if we only pray to Him. The greatest saint that ever lived could not have had a higher strength than ours; and therefore if they bore their afflictions without murmuring, we can do the same."

Amy was silent; her eyes were fixed upon the marble monument, and she seemed lost in thought. -From "Amy Herbert."

N

CONFIRMATION.

DRAW, HOLY GHOST, Thy seven-fold veil
Between us and the fires of youth;
Breathe, HOLY GHOST, thy freshening gale,
Our fevered brow in age to soothe.
And oft as sin and sorrow tire,

The hallowed hour do THOU renew,
When, beckon'd up the awful choir
By pastoral hands, to THEE we drew.
When trembling at the sacred rail,

We hid our eyes and held our breath;
Felt THEE how strong, our hearts how frail,
And longed to own THEE to the death.
For ever on our souls be traced,

That blessing dear, that dove-like hand;
A sheltring rock in memory's waste,
O'ershadowing all the weary land.

Keble. Christian Year.

A YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S DEATH-BED.

[The following extract from an account of a little girl's death-bed is introduced by this notice.]

The author of this little tract was, till very lately, inclined to believe, that the accounts sometimes given of the calmness and elevation of soul possessed by children in the hour of death, were either fictitious or exaggerated representations. He has now a melancholy satisfaction in acknowledging his error, and gives the following short narrative publicity, in the hope that it may conduce to prove, that the ardent belief even of a little child will be sufficient to conduct it in peace through the trying hour of dissolution. It must at the same time be borne in mind, that the composure of mind which will be here detailed, can only be expected, when the