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wholesome child does not, and could be happy as may be through the long summer day in some quiet corner of the neighbouring wood, building 'make believe' houses which had broken bits of china and pretty stones alike for walls and furnishings. Like a true girl, too, Gracie had her dolls; and during some of the last weeks of her life, when the langour of deep-seated disease had begun to steal over the child, her mother, in order to rouse her, would bring out the hoarded store of 'patches,' and plan with her what was to be made with them. But it would not do; for dear little Gracie had all but done with earthly delights, and she expressed herself as not wishing to 'look at the patches to-day.'

Twenty years, with all their joys and sorrows, have come and gone since Gracie passed away from earth, yet I can all but see her still as she was then, a rosy-cheeked,

earnest attention, and usually she would give a better account of the lesson on her return home than some of the older children did. She had a great liking for hymns, either said or sung, and one hymn-that beginning Come to Jesus'-is inseparably associated with the memory of little Gracie by all who knew her. Some weeks before we came to it in regular course, she had looked forward to it in the hymn book, and of her own accord, committed it to memory, telling her father that it was 'a bonnie hymn.' She repeated it in Sabbath School a few days before her last illness came on, and the simple words seemed to take a deep hold on her young mind, and they continued to make melody in her heart all through these days of darkness, when her slender frame was struggling with sore disease; and at last, when the little brain began to lose its reckoning, the last ruling thought of

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consciousness remained in power, and scraps of this hymn were continually in her mouth. Sometimes her father, to give her a little change, would lift her in his strong tender arms, and have her to sit on his knee by the fire. On such occasions, when her attention was roused by the entrance of a visitor, the old refrain came instinctively to her lips, and, looking up, she would give. utterance to the plaintive cry

'Come to Jesus just now,
Just now, come to Jesus.'

Soon complete unconsciousness set in, and she did not notice even the mother who, in terrible anguish, was bending over her bed; still at intervals a smile would flit across her face, whether from some remembered joy of her short earthly life, or from a glimpse into opening heaven, we may not tell; but this we do know, that it was well with the child' as she went down into the dark river of death, for she was 'Safe in the arms of Jesus.' Then the end came, and Gracie had gone to God. All that was left to us was the little body that had been the home of the spirit for five short years; and that, too, having been laid in the small coffin by a mother's careful hands, was covered up and by and by taken to rest in God's acre, and into God's keeping.

I said all that was left to us, but that is not quite correct. I wonder if you children could guess what else besides the body is left in this world when people diesomething indeed that may continue long after the body has become dust? It is the remembrance of their life; and if it was a Christian life, how blessed should that remembrance be.

Now, I know that boys and girls don't like the preachy bit that is apt to come at the close of a story like this, what in my young days was called 'the moral.' Well, I won't detain you, but just to say that there are two distinct thoughts that I would like you to carry away with you the one is that we should get ready for death, the other that we should get ready for

heaven.

It is a serious thing to die, and the only possible preparation is by taking our Gracie's advice, and Come to Jesus just now.' Jesus loves little children, and will be glad to be friends with you; and then you really do belong to Him, for God made you, and has cared for you all the time. Then you know if you get well acquainted with Jesus in this world, get to feel that He is really your friend who died to save you, you will be able quite to trust Him to carry you safe through when you come to die. As to the other, 'getting ready for heaven,' is that not the same thing? It is the same, and yet it is also something more.

Just

as the emigrant for some foreign shore naturally thinks a good deal about the country where he is going, and makes all necessary preparation, so should we think about heaven that it may not seem a strange place, but be homelike.

We do not know very much about the employments and scenes in the life to come; only this much we are told, that neither sin nor sorrow can ever enter there. And if we would be preparing for heaven, let us now be seeking to be like Christ in all our thoughts, feelings, and actions, so will the 'Happy Land' be no strange country to us, and this is just what grown-up people speak of as 'sanctification.' Thus does little Gracie's footprints on the sands of time' help to draw us on to the better land, for they point in that direction, and her clear young voice comes ringing across all these years to tell us also the way:

'Come to Jesus just now,
Just now, come to Jesus.'

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80

THE THREATENED BLOW.

little town in the South of Bohemia. But although he lived so long ago, Wickliffe was before him. Wickliffe was preaching the pure truth, in his little parish in England, and had been preaching it for many years, through long struggle and opposition, while Huss was still a little child in his Bohemian home. Wickliffe died tranquilly at his own house at Lutterworth, and among those he loved. The flames of martyrdom lay before Huss; and the Rhine was to receive his ashes when the fire had done its work.

But the names of the two men come together in our thought as Reformers before the Reformation time. Both good men, who faithfully taught what they knew was true. One in England while Edward Third reigned, and one far away in Bohemia.

Huss was the friend of Jerome of Prague, whose fate was like his own. They studied at the same University, and both protested with whole-hearted earnestness against the abuses of the church of Rome.

In the year 1402 Huss became preacher in the Bethlehem chapel at Prague. He was also made confessor to the Queen, and so gained access to court. Thus his influence spread alike among high and low, and soon his strange new doctrines alarmed the authorities of the church. For it was new to hear bold declamations against confessions and indulgences. And priests were at that time going through the country selling indulgences, to raise money for the Pope, who wished to make war on the King of Naples.

Against all this Huss openly protested. He declared it was a wickedness, a cruel deceit. For the poor foolish people crowded to the priests to buy pardon for their sins, and thought they might do what evil things they would without fear of God, while they had indulgence from the Pope.

Huss had before this time been accused as a follower of Wickliffe, and been summoned to appear at Rome. He

had disregarded the summons. He was strong enough to disregard it, for all the people were his friends.

Again he was condemned by the Pope, and thinking himself no longer safe in Prague, he retired to his native place. There he continued preaching with great power. He moved the people by his earnestness; and thought, perhaps, that in shelter of the little town he was safe from the Pope and the great authorities of Rome.

But he was not long to be allowed this quiet. He was summoned to a council at Constance, and when he reached the town was seized and thrown into prison. The Pope had resolved upon his death; and on the sixth of July, 1415, he was burned to death, and his ashes thrown into the Rhine. 1

II. W. II. W.

THE THREATENED BLOW.

EDDIE and Willie, the one eight, the other six years of age, were bright little fellows, and loved each other dearly. They would play happily together for hours, while their dear mother was attending to the wants of their sweet baby sister. But it happened one day, as they were enjoying their plays, that Eddie, the older brother, did something that exceedingly. displeased Willie. In an instant, he raised his little fist and said: 'I would strike you, Eddie-if mother was willing!' Though he was very angry, the hand fell. The blow was not given. A long pause ensued, but they finally resumed their sports.

How many children, do you suppose, would have been thus thoughtful, when angry, of mother's wishes?

When anything occurs to displease you, and your naughty tempers rise and make you feel as if you would just like to strike your dear brother or sister, or any other playmate, remember Willie. Stop and think if mother' would be 'willing,' and never forget that the eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.'

THE FLOWER ANGEL.

81

THE FLOWER ANGEL.

(From the German of Krummacher.)

THERE is a mountain in the Holy Land

which is called mount Tabor. Near this mountain there lived a little boy whose name was Selia. He had pious parents who often told him about the good angels that Jehovah sends down to earth, to walk beside little children and guard them from harm and to teach them how to be wise and good and happy. Now, Selia loved flowers very much, and so he thought, 'Surely, the flowers too, have an angel to take care of them. Oh, how I wish I could see him!'

The little boy went often away up by himself to the quiet mountain, and would sit with his large blue eyes gazing up to heaven, or resting thoughtfully on the flower-carpeted hillsides. He was sitting watching, waiting, if perchance he might hear the rustle of the angel's wings. But, in vain he saw not, nor heard the flower angel.

Then he thought, 'The angel works when no one sees; at night he comes and cares for the flowers, sprinkling them

with dew, that they may bloom all day, and then at dawn he disappears. Oh, how I should like to thank him!'

So he went and gathered all the loveliest flowers that he could find in the valley. He wove them into a beautiful wreath and, thinking of the flower angel, he laid them softly on the mountain side. Then, with a heart full of peace and joy, he went to his home.

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When he was going to bed in his little room, his mother said to him, My dear Selia, what have you been doing all day? Have you been away again among the flowers?'

So he told her how he had gathered all the loveliest flowers in the valley, and had woven them into a wreath and laid it in a field where the angel of the Spring would find it, that very night. His elder brother laughed, and said, 'You fool, if the angel can make flowers, he can get plenty of his own, and does not need any from you.'

This vexed the little boy very much, and he looked sadly to his mother. She said, 'Do not heed him, dear; the angel will welcome your gift, for he looks not only at the flowers, but at the loving heart which made you wish to wreathe and consecrate them to him.' This comforted Selia very much, and he fell asleep. In his sleep the flower angel visited him and smiled upon him in his dreams.

Early the next morning he was up and away to the hill. Home again he came, shouting for joy. Mother, he cried, "The flower angel has been pleased to welcome my gift. He has not despised it, for see, over all my wreath he has sprinkled drops of shining dew.

E. B. M'T.

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