XI.

A Child's Service.

EVEN A CHILD IS KNOWN BY HIS DOINGS, WHETHER HIS WORK BE PURE, AND WHETHER IT BE RIGHT.

FAITHFUL IN A VERY LITTLE.

GEORGE HERBERT says, "A child's service is little, yet he is no little fool that despiseth it." A child liveth not to himself. His simple words penetrate oftentimes, where the old dare not venture a whisper. Go where it may, a Christian child carries with it a quiver filled with arrows, which unwittingly it lets fly into hearts and consciences. Aged men have, at a child's rebuke, cast aside the engrained habits of fourscore years. Care-worn worldlings have put away the cashbook, or dropped the newspaper, which had long usurped the place of God's holy book on sabbath-days, all because of a child's questioning look. What a debt do mothers owe to their own little ones, whose inquiries, brooking no evasion, have sometimes first led them to confess with the mouth the Lord Jesus! The mother who, because of irresolution or self-mistrust,

dares not make profession of her faith in the drawingroom, or to her nearest friend, yet dares not deny the Saviour to her child. Well would it be if mothers were more alive to this means of blessing to the soul. "Do you love Jesus better than you love us? . . . too?" was a question put by one Finding us writing on a sabbath, while a book that was often used for week-day work lay on the table, Freddy said, "Is it God you are writing about? Oh, I was sure it must be about

and better than

of the children.

him when you are doing it to-day." Daily after losing them, we felt the want of the keen constant watch on look and word, so beneficial by its scrutiny.

But besides the unconscious influence which little children possess over others, there is a talent committed to each of them-a service of which they are capable. What is it? what does it embrace? It is for the mother to discover this. According to her idea of it, and the way she defines it, will the work of her child vary.

Might not a little child be allowed to visit one dwelling of the poor,-to carry with its own hand a gift, ministering to the comfort of one sick bed,-to leave a book or tract with another? Might it not

keep a little box for missions or ragged schools in a quiet corner, fetching it out once a week as a plaything suited for the sabbath? and copy on that day, too, a brief text of its own choice into its own strangely-cyphered album? Might not a child of the same age be found among the poor, in which it could take special interest? Perhaps there is not one of the tests of discipleship given by our Lord in the solemn programme of the judgment-day, which young children are excluded from applying in their own miniature sphere. Are they not always happiest when encouraged to attempt, in their feeble measure, the works of kindness and mercy, in which we long to see them hereafter engaged? Can they begin too soon?

And who

How the weight of even one regret as to our conduct towards a departed child, hangs round a parent's heart! How inexcusable our neglect appears! among the bereaved has not tasted of this worm-wood ? What mother does not feel that had she been more diligent, more prayerful, more patient, more believ ing, her store of happy recollections might have been doubled, her painful remembrances greatly lessher children's memory more blessed ?

Near the gate of the boys' home, there lived a poor

invalid, whom they occasionally saw during the last year of their lives. The room, to which she had been for many years confined, was beautifully kept. A chink of the window being always open, and flowers being often at her side, made every association with the sick chamber of the incurable, very pleasing. Freddy was much pleased when he could find the way himself to that cottage, and guide others to the door; and such visits had a salutary effect on his young heart. How well calculated are they to check selfishness, and to cherish a happy thankful spirit for daily unnoticed mercies.

No words seem better to describe Freddy during his last year than these: "Faithful in a very little." He was at five years old allowed to read: and although he could then scarcely put two letters together, he got on so quickly, without much help, that in a few weeks he could read with pleasure easy verses of the Bible, and at the end of six months could read it well aloud at sight. The "Peep of Day" was his only lessonbook. At first, one page was a labour, but by and bye a whole chapter was his chosen task, and he was very sorry to see it drawing to a close, till he discovered from the advertisement at the end, that "Line upon