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A LETTER FOR A DEAD CHILD.

EVENING PRAYER.

NOW the light has gone away,
Saviour, listen while I pray,
Asking Thee to watch and keep,
And to send me quiet sleep.

Jesus, Saviour, wash away,
All that has been wrong to-day,
Help me every day to be

Good and gentle, more like Thee.
Let my near and dear ones be
Always near and dear to Thee;
Oh bring me and all I love
To Thy happy home above.

Now my evening praise I give;
Thou didst die that I might live;
All my blessings come from Thee,
Oh, how good Thou art to me!
Thou my best and kindest Friend;
Thou wilt love me to the end;
Let me love Thee more and more,
Always better than before.

FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL.

A LETTER FOR A DEAD GIRL.

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HE other morning I found my letters

THE

as usual upon the breakfast table; some from Australia, some from the South Seas, some from friends nearer home. Among them was one addressed in a hand that was strange to me. On opening it, I found that the envelope served merely as the cover to another letter addressed to a favourite daughter who was sleeping in a quiet country churchyard many miles away. Did any of you ever receive a letter addressed to one who had left this world so many years ago? A strange feeling came over me a feeling at first of solemn awe, then one of gentlest affection, as the image of her who had gone before passed across my mind.

Six years ago, in an excellent magazine for the young, published in London, the editor had offered a prize for the best essay upon a prescribed subject. The little girl, only some ten years of age, thought she would try for it, and her image is before me, as she sat in the long winter evenings thinking it out; the slate, the busy pencil, the smile of pleasure as sentence after sentence was written. Then, the mystery about it, for no one was to know it but myself; the anxious moment when the envelope was to be addressed to the great man in London. Then came an interval of suspense; many an anxious look for the postman, many a wonder if the precious letter had miscarried, and at last the conclusion that nothing would come of it!A vision of hurried steps upon the stair, of gleaming eyes radiant with joy, and of a letter held aloft with the glad tidings that the child's effort had been crowned with success. Following close upon the letter came the prize itself. O the joy of that spring morning, and the glad surprise of all in the house that darling A-. had 'won.'

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gained a nobler, better prize-THE CROWN

OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.

A lady in England, knowing nothing of all this, and making an effort to present the Editor of the magazine with a well merited token of esteem, writes to the young people who had been prize takers, asking them to help, and among the rest, all unwitting, she addresses a note to my child, who is among the white-robed. Thus it was that a letter came for a dead girl, and stirred to the inmost depths the memories of the past. Well, well, it is but a little while; I shall go to her, she will not come to me.

ROSES ON THE MOUNTAINS.

FAR up on the rugged Scotch hills among the crags and the heather, you will come upon sudden beds of delicate pure white roses. Far and alone among up the twisted heath, and the dim bog-myrtle, and the lichens and the rocks, they bloom as finely and sweetly as a rose in the queen's garden, and fill the lonely air with the scent of their pale leaves.

And surely these lonely flowers have a gentle thought in their breath:-it is this, that no place in the world is too unkindly for love to charm-too rough to be made beautiful by tenderness, patience, and faith.

PIONEER QUESTIONS

PREPARED FOR THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE.' BY REV. DAVID MACRAE.

SERIES A.-SCRIPTURE QUARTETTS. VIII.-Creation.

29 Who made the world? In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. (Gen. 1.1.) 30 How did He make it? He spake, and it was done; He commanded, and it stood fast. (Psa. 33. 9.)

31 To whom then does all belong? The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. (Psa. 24. 1.)

32 What is due to God as Creator? Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: : for Thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created. (Rev. 4. 11.)

IX.-God a Spirit.

33 How many Gods are there? There is none other God but one. (1 Cor. 8. 4.)

34 Can we see God? No man hath seen God at any time. (John 1. 18.)

35 Why cannot we see God? God is a Spirit. (John 4. 24.)

36 Does God see us? The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good. (Prov. 15. 3.)

X.-The Christian's Death.

37 Will God forsake the Christian in Death? Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. (Psa. 23. 4.)

38 Is it a loss for the Christian to die? What did Paul say? To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. (Philip. 1. 21.)

39 What did the voice from heaven say to John? Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them. (Rev. 14. 13.)

40 What was even the wicked Balaam constrained to cry? Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his! (Num. 23. 10.)

XI.-The Holy Spirit.

41 When Christ went up to heaven, what did He promise to do? I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; even the Spirit of truth. (John 14. 16-17.)

42 What did Christ say the Spirit would teach us? He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever have said unto you. (John 14. 26.)

43 What is the fruit of the Spirit? The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance. (Gal. 5. 22-23.)

44 To whom will God give the Holy Spirit? To them that ask Him. (Luke 11. 13.)

XII.-Work.

45 What does the Bible tell us to be in our daily duties? Not slothful in business; fervent in Spirit; serving the Lord. (Rom. 12. 11.)

46 Have we long time for this work of life? Behold, Thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before Thee. (Psa. 39. 5.)

47 What then did Jesus say about His work? I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh when no man can work. (John 9. 4.)

48 Should we do the same? Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that yo should follow His steps. (1 Pet. 2. 21.)

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IT

SANDY'S HELPER.

SANDY'S HELPER.

T was an autumn day, and Sandy and Rose were in the fir wood.

Sandy, on a swaying fir branch, far up and half hid in the green, was plucking all the unripe cones he could reach, and throwing them down to Rose to make her basket fuller.

But Rose watched him fearfully, and with every handful she received, entreated :

'Ŏ come down, Sandy, Ó do come down!' 'Are you frightened?" asked Sandy, springing across to a higher branch.

Yes, O do come!'

'Frightened!' laughed Sandy, resting and bending down that Rose might hear him well enough, this is how men travel in America, miles without once coming down,-they can't get along the ground for the snakes and things; and it was how Park crossed Africa, I'm pausing to remember if his book

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memory were at fault.

'Well, I don't care what Park did,' shouted up Rose, and I wish you would never read a thing if it makes you go on like that.'

"That's just the good of reading, it makes a fellow know what men can do.'

'But you're not a man.'

'All the better. A man couldn't stand here,' said Sandy, bending the branch with his foot; but I would like to try these American forests, wouldn't it be fine crossing the country like a squirrel or a monkey in the trees.'

'I don't think it would be fine at all,' said Rose, 'I wish you had never heard about America,'

'Rose! Rose!' then Rose looked round, she knew 'twas their sister was calling.

'Rose,' she shouted again.

'Yes, I'm coming, Maggie. O Sandy, come down!'

'Come, Rose, come quick, we're to bring home Molly. Is that Sandy up there?'

'Yes, I wish he would come down.' 'How frightened you are! do you think Sandy can't climb ?'

'Yes, but-' hesitated Rose, a little ashamed of her unbelief, and still looking fearfully up through the dark, swaying tree.

'Sandy!' with a last call.

'Yes.'

'We're going for Molly,' cried Maggie in a voice that rang through the wood, and she drew Rose out into the sunny field, holding by her cotton dress.

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'Such an awful looking man,' said Maggie, coming closer to Rose as she spoke, 'if you had just seen! Mary said it was a mercy I wasn't taking the eggs alone, that he was just a gangrel, and he might have done something; he wouldn't touch us when we were with Mary, you know. If you had just seen his coat; it was all torn, and he was sitting at the side of the hedge and talking to himself. Mary says that it's only bad people talk to themselves, that it's an awful bad sign. He stopped talking when he saw us; Mary says he would be saying something bad, that he didn't want us to hear. I'm glad it wasn't you and me was going alone, Rose. You would have been awful frightened.'

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'O!' exclaimed Rose, and will he be there yet?'

'No, for Mary looked behind and she saw him rising.'

'I wonder where he would go.'

'I don't know; Mary told Mrs Graham, and she says it's because it's harvest, there's such a lot of these gangrels going about the country.'

Rose said nothing for a minute, then she said, 'Maybe he was poor.'

'Yes,' said Maggie shaking her head.

Then when she looked at Rose and saw there was something in her eye, not quite a tear, but nearly one, she laughed and shook a long daisy chain, and held it up before her.

'See, it was me made this, Rose, me and Mary.'

'What a long one.'

'It can go round my neck, and round my waist, and round my arms; but we've to be quick, mind, for it's time that Molly was home.'

So they ran down the barley field and came to the grass park where the well-loved Molly spent her lazy, pleasant days.

But Molly wasn't waiting at the gate as was her wont. 'Stupid thing! she's forgotten,' said Maggie, 'O there she is at the gate at the other end.'

SANDY'S HELPER.

And there to be sure was Molly against the five-barred gate, with her lazy face turned towards them waiting patiently; but Rose and Maggie suddenly stopped, for they heard behind the hedge, a low, hoarse sound.

"That's him,' said Maggie, in a frightened whisper, and throwing as she spoke her arm round Rose's waist, come, we'll run away; Mary will come for Molly.'

But Rose stood still; she was peering through the hedge.

"That's the man we saw, I'm sure of it,' said Maggie again, her lips close to Rose's ear. Rose, I thought you would be far frighteneder than me-you would be if you saw him.'

'Hush! listen!' said Rose, clasping her hands suddenly.

For a little wind had risen, wafting to them the low, hoarse sounds, and Rose had caught a word which made her eyes grow soft.

The wind, with a long sigh, came through the sycamore. It died; but very low came still the voice of the wayfaring man:

""To him that by wisdom made the heavens: for his mercy endureth for ever.

"To him that stretched out the earth above the waters: for his mercy endureth for ever. "To him that made great lights: for his mercy endureth for ever:

"The sun to rule by day: for his mercy endureth for ever:

"The moon and stars to rule by night: for his mercy endureth for ever.

"To him that smote Egypt in their firstborn: for his mercy endureth for ever:

"And brought out Israel from among them: for his mercy endureth for ever:

"With a strong hand, and with a stretched out arm for his mercy endureth for ever.

"To him which led his people through the wilderness: for his mercy endureth for ever. "Who remembered us in our low estate: for his mercy endureth for ever.'

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Here the voice trembled and paused, and repeated the words again with a deep, hoarse, mournful fervour, which brought tears to Rose's eyes.

"Who remembered us in our low estate: for his mercy endureth for ever:

"And hath redeemed us from our enemies : for his mercy endureth for ever.'

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'Rose! Maggie! Maggie! Rose !'

Rose and Maggie never forgot that cry, never as long as they lived. Never beforc

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nor after they footed the daisies as then. It seemed that the barley field gate took nearly an age to open. What the cry could mean they did not dare to ask, for it was a troubled cry, and Sandy was up in the trees. They did not speak a word; but unspoken in both young hearts there lingered the hoarse words, His mercy endureth for ever.'

In less than half a minute they were in the fir wood, looking up with white faces through one of the great trees. For high, high up, on the very furthest end of a breaking, creaking branch, sat Sandy, their own Sandy, and they could not reach him nor help him.

'Is there nobody near?' asked Sandy in a strange sort of still voice, 'the branch is breaking, I can't hold on much longer.'

Then he held his lips close, as if their very motion might loosen his tottering support; and looked down with a face as pale as that of Rose or Maggie on the soft, green, mossy ground so far, far below. For round him the swaying trees offered never a branch for aid. Sometimes they bent so near he could touch the moving spines, but these only came off in his hands; he could grasp nothing that was strong.

With a quick, dreary glance, his sister's eyes swept the field, but no one could be seen; the reapers had all gone home, and the house was a mile away, and the branch was slowly breaking.

Suddenly Rose's eyes brightened with a gleam of hope.

'Hold on, Sandy,' she cried, 'I'll get help in a minute.'

And before the words were quite spoken, she was in the barley field, running as fast as she could towards the five-barred gate.

'What if he should be away?'-'His mercy endureth for ever,' these were the thoughts that were chiming together through poor Rose's heart as she ran. She did not know how, indeed, the gangrel could help Sandy; but she trusted him in some instinctive way, because she thought surely this poor man trusted God.

Rose climbed up on the gate, and looked out with a beating, fearful heart, just as the man rose wearily with his stick and bundle to go.

'Man, man,' pleaded Rose, stretching out both hands in her eagerness, 'come and save Sandy, come quick, quick.'

'Ay, ay, whaur?' asked the man with but one glance at her face, for in that face he read her truth and her despair.

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