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OUR MISSIONARY PAGE.

A MOTHER'S OFFERING.
MATTHEW xix. 29.

THERE sailed a gallant vessel o'er the waste of ocean waters,

Very varied, aye, and precious, was the cargo that she bore;

There were those who wept the parting with beloved sons and daughters,

Or with faithful friends and trusted, 'mid the folk who stood on shore.

And amid that crowd of gazers, there was one, a widow woman,

And the ship was bearing from her what she prized the most on earth;

But her features seemed enlightened with a calmness superhuman,

And her quiet smile was telling of the peace that gave it birth.

Long ago a sea of trouble had passed o'er her wearied spirit,

For the husband she had buried had made life and earth so dear;

And the little child born after, seemed entitled

to inherit

Nothing but a dreary birthright of anxiety and fear.

Yet as time's soft wings passed o'er her, and the days and years went onward,

In the lonely heart and weary some faint hope began to stir;

And the eyes grown dim with weeping, as they once again turned sunward, Found that 'mid the glowing radiance was a gleam of light for her.

And the child whom God had given her, with his little hands caressing,

With his wealth of sunny ringlets, and his eyes so blue and free

Ah! when Christ to His great kingdom had recalled her chiefest blessing,

He had sent a pledge of comfort in the baby on her knee.

There was none could choose but love him, from his boyhood's bright beginning,

All could bear their loving witness to his words and acts of grace;

With his brave chivalrous bearing, and his gentle ways and winning;

God Himself had set the impress of true greatness on his face.

Oh! her dreams about his future! should he painter be, or poet,

Give to words and deeds of beauty such due utterance as was meet,

Should he wear his crown of laurel, so that all the world might know it,

Then the dew still fresh upon it, come to lay it at her feet?

Futile fancies! God came speaking to his spirit half resistant,

'Not for thee the hero's armour, or the poet's diadem;

There are nations lost in darkness, where they dwell in lands far distant,

I have chosen thee to carry my pure words of truth to them.'

But he murmured; 'Must he leave it, this fair life that lay about him,

Hopes of fame and dreams of glory, must he needs forego them all,

Must he leave the gentle mother, who would be so sad without him?'

'Rise and follow where I lead thee,' such was still the Master's call.

'Mother,' oh he spoke it softly, and his words were low and tender;

'Will you let me go-your darling—for these blinded nations' sakes?

'When we trust to God our treasures, He will

surely bless the lender,

'And Himself will give back fourfold, for the sacrifice He takes.'

Child,' she answered very calmly, calmly though her heart was breaking,

'If indeed the Master calleth, then how can you choose but go.

'Did not Christ, our great exemplar, His eternal home forsaking,

'Come to earth to live and suffer, all because He loved us so?'

'And we call ourselves His servants;' then her voice with sobs was broken,

And the pang of human suffering for a time the vict❜ry won;

Then again she smiled upon him, and the words were calmly spoken,

'If God calleth I can yield thee, even thee, my only son.'

And she watched him till he left her, spoke no word of weak complaining,

Never let him see the tear-drops that at times her eyes would dim.

Oh! there is a wondrous power in the love of Christ constraining,

This lone woman gave her darling, gladly for the love of Him.

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This hymn may be had as a Leaflet, the Music arranged for 4 voices in both notations, suitable for Classes and Open Air Services. 18. per 100.

Paisley J. AND R. PARLANE.

London: HOULSTON AND SONS, Paternoster Buildings.

The DAYSPRING can be had, post free, from the Publishers, as follows:
7 copies for 4d., or 12 copies monthly, for one year, 68.

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GATHERING WILD FLOWERS.

NOT unfrequently the purest pleasures

are those which lie closest to one's hand. Many people go miles out of their way, and spend large sums of money in order to secure pleasure, when a walk of half-an-hour might bring them into contact with some of the finest scenes, and of the most beautiful objects which the loving Father in heaven has created. I refer to those little, delicate way-side flowers, to be met in shady dingles, peeping out through hedge-roots, or studding with their star-like beauty the meadows and the fields. When

I see them,-some, blue as if the azure of the sky above had been transferred to their tiny leaves, others, with their rim of purple like the fillet binding the brow of a great king, and others, again, like the modest primrose peeping out upon a world of sin and sorrow, and reminding one of what the world must have been when sin and sorrow were unknown,-- when I see them in their countless thousands, the words always come up, TIOU OPENEST THY HAND.'

I witnessed one day a scene in connection with the gathering of wild flowers which will set some of you, I trust, upon a way of doing good and conferring pleasure, although you may not be rich. I was visiting a sick child of my acquaintance, and after sitting and speaking with him for a little about the fairest flower in all the paradise of God, I heard a sudden pattering of little feet, and, when the door was opened, one head was thrust in to reconnoitre, and the coast being clear,-nobody but the minister and the sick child being in the room,-another and another, and another followed, till four children in all came up to the bedside. One (a little girl) opened her pinafore and displayed such a heap of tangled beauty as I have seldom seen-cowslips, primroses. forget-me-nots, wild hyacinths, blue and white periwinkles, all lying side by side, and all meant as a gift for the sick boy. The children had got half a holiday, and in the love of their young hearts thought of the poor child whom sickness would not permit to gather wild flowers for himself. And when Jamie's deft, nimble fingers had

picked them out and assorted them, and

placed them in a little jug filled with water, and he had got the jug set upon the mantlepiece, the room seemed as if an angel had come into it and made it bright and pleasant. James, I may say, got better, and was able to gather wild flowers for himself; but mindful of the joy of that day, many a posy of these, fairest of the fair, he brought to tho sick and dying.

NELLY'S FLOWER.

I THINK I never shall forget
That sultry day last June,
When I sat with my grandfather
The live-long afternoon.

A sunny land before us lay,
Fair were the country sights,
The whole green earth unfolded then
Its manifold delights.

A rare old piece of garden ground

'Mid smooth trimmed hedges set, With china roses down the walks, And plots of mignonette.

And yellow marigolds up reared
Their faces from the sod;
'Mid bushes of sweet lavender,
And spikes of golden rod.

My grandfather regarded all

With pleased contented face; The old home of his ancestors,

In all its summer grace.

His eye was near as bright as mine,
His brow was more serene;
Though he was almost sixty-nine,
And I was just sixteen.

'Oh how I pity those,' I said,

'Who dwell in smoky towns; 'Who never feel the pleasant airs 'That fan our breezy downs;

'Away from all these fragrant flowers, 'So sweet to scent and touch; 'Away from all the happy things "That I should miss so much.'

'And yet,' my grandsire answered me, 'I think our Father sends, 'Even to those who dwell in towns, 'Some joys to make amends.

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