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prayer. On that Sabbath evening, grand many good things God has given us, since papa knew that the minds of the children last new-year's-day, grandpapa.' were filled with thoughts of the coming | “Yes, Maggie dear, and can you tell me new-year and its expected pleasures, and some of these good things ?' he had no desire to damp the happiness of • We have had food and clothes and a his little friends. But he wished to guide house to live in, and papa and mamma to their thoughts to Him who is the only take care of us, and you, grandpapa, to source of true and everlasting joy. He come and see us, and I dont know how knew that

many more good things. Joy is a fruit that will not grow

"I was sure you could not count them In nature's barren soil ;

all, none of us could do that, we receive so All we can boast, till Christ we know, many mercies from God, but you have Is vanity and toil.

answered very well, and I think Katie will But where the Lord has planted grace And made His glories known;

be able to tell us some more of the many There fruits of heavenly joy and peace

good things God has given us, since last Are found, and there alone.

new-year's-day.' • Can you tell me, children,' he said, "of We have all been strong and well, what great event new-year's-day should grandpapa, and then we have had a nice remind us? As none of the children i school to go to, and mamma to help us to seemed able to answer this question,

| learn our lessons. grandpapa added, surely you know what

These are all great blessings for which great event occurred in the world's history we should feel very grateful to God, for 1874 years ago.'

you know we do not deserve one of these Jesus was born in Bethlehem 187 mercies. I would like you to read David's years ago,' Willie replied, “Is that what words, in Psalm cxvi. 12, 13, and make you mean, grandpapa ?'

them your new-year's motto.' Yes, Willie, you are quite right. The

I have found the place, grandpapa,' coming of the Lord Jesus to save sinners,

said Katie, and she read, 66. What shall I is the most wonderful and the most joyful

render unto the Lord, for all His benefits event, which ever took place in our world. toward me? I will take the cup of salvaThat period is called the Christian era, tion, and call upon the name of the Lord.”' because we count our years from it.'

• Do you know what the cup of salvation I thought Jesus was born on Christmas means, Katie?' day, grandpapa. I did not know that new •I think it means Jesus Himself.' year's-day was a memorial of His birth?'. • Yes, my dear, Jesus Himself is the cup

We do not know on which day of the of salvation, and the best way in which we year Jesus was born; the Bible does not can shew our gratitude to God for all His tell us, and learned men have not been goodness toward us, is by receiving Jesus able to find it out. But though we do not Himself into our hearts as our own Saviour.' know on which day Jesus was born, we

Would you like to sing a song with count our years from that event, and grandpapa now, children?' surely we should not allow the close of We would like it very much,' the one year and the beginning of another to children replied, and the old man began, pass, without remembering that joyful Such pity as a Father hath, &c.' morning when angels sang, Glory to God When the song of praise was sung, the in the highest, and on earth peace, good. good old man talked of that blessed land will toward men.'

to which he was soon going, and entreated "I wonder if little Maggie can tell me each one of them to give their hearts to anything else we should remember, when Jesus now in the days of their youth, asthe year is just going away?'

suring them that He would not forsake • Mamma says we should think of how | them in their old age.

NO NIGHT THERE.'

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NO NIGHT THERE.' H AVE you thought of these beautiful, Conrad went on and on, looking with

I words with their promise of unset hungry, weary eyes at the people who ting day, when the night has darkened passed through the streets. The houses round you here in gloom and chill and grew closer together, and the streets grew fear perhaps? Has the vision of the narrow and high. nightless city been fairer than lips could And every one looked happy but Conrad. say, to little hearts that love the sunlight, The mothers laughed to their babies, and and fear the frown of the dark ?

the brothers and sisters played. Conrad This is a story of night-night with a was very weary, but he still went on. sunrise in it.

Nobody spoke to him; they did not know It is not told of Conrad in what clime or his need. Some compassionate glances time he lived. It is said that the corn was were bent on the little, lonely boy; but he golden about his way as he went; but the did not ask for anything, so the kindest corn grew golden in the days of Ruth, as passed on. golden as to-day, and we know they were Then the twilight grew deeper and fields of Bethlehem which this same kind deeper, till all the town was dark; the Ruth gleaned. So we learn neither time lights gleamed like stars in the blackness nor place, though they tell us Conrad went of the long dreary streets. And above the through the corn.

countless chimneys the kinder stars came They tell us he came among the corn out-those constant heavenly watchers, fields, many a weary foot, and with a very each like an angel's eye. Conrad watched weary heart towards a great town. As he with a lonely wonder the broad milky drew nearer the town, the trees grew way, that path through the dark sky where blaoker and dimmer, and the little flowers the stars are thickest strewn, that path grew fewer, but still he went on his way. which girds the earth as if the feet of the Then, instead of the pleasant corn fields, angels had left a shining track. and the milky odour of cows, there came But the angels seemed far away to the low, straggling houses that lay on the Conrad; and he had no home. And he skirts of the town, then chimneys, chimneys, was frightened for the dark, the poor little everywhere, and black smoke falling down, homeless boy. for in that still summer twilight there was All the people were gone. All the no wind to carry it away.

sounds were hushed. The babies were

"NO NIGHT THERE.'

sleeping in their cradles. The brothers and sisters lay, arms locked in arms, with bright cheeks touching each other, on the same soft, nightly pillow. But poor little Conrad had no one to clasp with warm hands; and cowering close to a doorway he sank down and cried. The angel of love and peace touched the little boy's weary eyes, the lids drooped heavily, and he too was asleep.

Then there came a dream to the childa quiet and fair dream.

He saw a great crowd pressing on; and he saw himself in the crowd. And he looked at his own face and saw it eager and worn, but a light was shining round him, a light he knew not from where. And he asked a stranger by his side

Sir, what light is this?'.
The light of the love of God.'

The stranger's voice was soft; yet like some grand low music, so that Conrad whispered when he spoke

• And where are the people going?
On to eternity.'
Shall we follow them ?' asked Conrad.

Then the stranger took his hand. But soon he forgot the crowd and saw only his own eager self pressing onward, onward, and the shining light round. There were many dark places before him; and Conrad shuddered sometimes to see his own form come against some blank wall of rock, or stand still on the verge of a chasm torn up in the dark; but always as he came close the light showed him some little path, which served as well for his feet as the broadest king's highway. And thus he went on and on, till he came to a broad stream, rolling deep and dark; but beyond, in sudden glory, flashed a glad, regal city, which shone like one pearl. And the stranger, with shining finger, pointed beyond the stream; and his voice spoke joyfully like a clear silvery lute, Behold the city of God; the city of the Great King.' And then in letters of gold, which seemed to shine against the sky, little Conrad read deathless words; strange, sweet words; familiar, and yet new. The nations of them which are saved, shall

walk in the light of it; and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day; for there shall be no night there. And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and His servants shall serve Him. And they shall see His face. ... Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have a right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.'

'Twas then the loud ringing music from a great belfry near, woke the little weary Conrad from his heavenly, quiet dream. He thought 'twas a burst of music from the pearly city of his dreams; and smiled a joyous smile as he opened his blue eyes. .

But the dark church-shadow loomed over him; and the lights shone cold and far along the deserted streets; and the watchman, going his rounds, spoke grimly to the child, and roughly bade him go home-home to poor homeless Conrad ! But the last words he read in his dream rang through the heart of the boy, and he smiled in the dark street, though no one saw his smile. Blessed are they that do His commandments; ... through the gates into the city.'

Conrad could not forget those beautiful words in his dream; nor how he had seen himself there, with that garment of love around him ; finding always some safe, narrow path while he pressed to the city gates.

Conrad found kind friends. He never slept again out homeless in the night. It is not told of him whether he was rich or poor. It does not matter indeed, for wealth of itself can bring neither honour nor happiness; and Conrad in later years was honoured and happy too. But often, all his life, he would remember that midnight under the shadow of the church. And often when the quiet night stole over him as then, and he saw the broad milky way, and the faint stars trembling through the blue, he thought of his dream, and prayed, Make me to go in the path of Thy commandments; lead me to the city where is no more night.'

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THE WISHING GATE, GRASMERE. TEST some of our young readers may people the wishing gate,' on account of bd not know about Grasmere and the an old tradition which says, that if any one Wishing Gate, I will tell them a little wishes anything, while standing at the gate, about them, that they may the better under- | he is sure to get it. stand the poem.

Now, my dear young friends know that Grasmere is one of the loveliest of our ! this is only a fancy thought; but a minister English lakés, with its little island, and from Scotland was standing by the gate hills all round, tempting the traveller to one day, and he thought, Ah! I know. of linger amid its beauties. Overlooking the a true “wishing gate" where we can Yake there is a gate, called by the indeed get all we wish, if it is good for us

OUR MISSIONARY PAGE.

'I wish to have the Wisdom

That comes alone from God; I wish for constant cleansing

In Thy most precious Blood; "I wish to have the Beauty

Of holiness in Thee;
I wish to have the Glory

Of endless years with Thee'
Dear children, at this. Wishing Gate'

No wish is breathed in vain;
And often as the Tryst we keep,

We still may go again. M. A. L. F.

OUR MISSIONARY PAGE.

to have it; I must tell the dear children of my congregation about it when I get home.' So, when he came home, he took as his text for the monthly sermon to the young, Mark x. 46 to the end, and called the sermon the wishing gate.' If you find out the passage you will see how wonderfully blind Bartimeus got his wish fulfilled.

These verses below were written after hearing the sermon, and as you read them you may fancy yourselves at Grasmere, looking over the top bar of the gate.

Dear young friends, this new-year time is a wishing time; let us take all our wishes to the dear Lord Jesus, both for ourselves and our dear ones, remembering that He is the same loving, tender Saviour now, as when He stopped on His journey to grant the wish-in other words, the prayer of a poor, blind beggar.

THE WISHING GATE.
I gaze upon a lovely scene,

Of hill, and dale, and lake;
As, leaning on the 'Wishing Gate,'

A moment's rest I take.
Many a mark and notch are there,

Telling a wishful tale,
That many such as I have leaned

And wished without avail.
Dear children, there's a "Wishing Gate,'

Where you and I may stand;
A trysting-place, where Jesus meets,

And grants with loving hand.
He knows the wishes of your heart,

The longing of your soul;
He's waiting at the trysting-place,

He waits to make you whole.
While standing at the Wishing Gate,'

The Saviour passes by;
•Jesus ! have mercy upon me.'

Must ever be our cry.
And when in tender, loving words,

The whisper moets our ear,
"What wilt thou that I do to thee ?

What is it brings thee here ?' Our longing wish is known to Him · Ere yet we speak the word, 'Lord, give me now the inward sight

To see Thee as my Lord.

EROMANGA-THE MISSIONARY MART YR. OUR young readers who have taken an

interest in missionary work must have heard of Eromanga, on which fell John Williams one of the noblest Missionaries of the cross. Eromanga forms one of the New Hebrides group of islands, an account of which you will find in the November and December numbers of the Dayspring. Eleven years ago the Rev. Mr Gordon and his wife were murdered on this island by the natives, and last year the Rev. J. D. Gordon, brother of the preceding, was barbarously murdered by an Eromangan chief. The following letter from a native Christian, describing the sad scene will interest our readers :

'I am Soso. Love to you, Misi Paton. Why this word of mine to you? Because the Eromangans have killed Missi Gordon, and he is not here now. A man named Nerimpon struck Missi in the month of March, the 7th day, Thursday. There was one servant with Nerimpon, named Nare. Ho (Nerimpon) cut his forehead with a tomahawk one time only, and I buried him there at Potuuma (Portinia Bay), according to the word which he had spoken, namely, “If I die, bury yo me here, afterwards send word to the missionaries," and I do so. And I assembled the youmg men, and the children, and the women, and remained there on Friday, and Saturday, and Sunday. I saw Naling and part of the young mon from Dillon's Bay. The carpenter sent them to bring us from Potuutha. And I asked them

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