shining with love, they are thought presumptuous for talking of him in the manner they do. Not, perhaps, that their way of speaking is always right, but others ean little imagine where they have been, and what they have seen. And seeing that 'Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him,' I believe the Lord smiles even their foolish babbling, as a mother smiles at the babbling of her child, when its little heart is full of love and delight, and it knows no better way of expressing itself.

on

"It was when the woman 'that was a sinner' kissed and shed tears of love over Jesus' feet, that it was said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven,' Luke vii. 48. The people of the house where he dined had shown him every respect, and entertained him courteously, but 'ye gave me no kiss ;' here was the grievance; it is love that he wants-the heart. Dear father, do not think that I write this in an improper spirit, as though I would instruct you in these things, and tell you what you do not know. Oh no! but I cannot help writing on this subject in a particular manner, because I feel that you are afraid of me because I am in the habit of expressing myself ardently and familiarly; and the thought of your thinking me too bold and confident would be very grievous to me.

"Oh! how inexpressibly sweet it is to me to know that "the Lord looketh upon the heart,' that he knows he has brought me down into the dust at his feet, made me to feel in my soul that I am a sinner, and to trust alone in the merits of my Redeemer; and that when, beholding that Redeemer in his exceeding loveliness, as well as in his sufferings for me, I break out into familiar expressions, he looks upon me as you looked upon me when I was a little child, stretching out my arms towards your neck, and babbling upon your knee! I knew no better way of telling you that I loved you, and you desired no better. You felt that my heart throbbed with love. You knew not, you recked not what I said; I was your child, and your heart throbbed with love in return.

"Do you remember once when walking by yourself on the top of Malvern Hill, how you suddenly burst into tears and wept aloud, overwhelmed with feelings of love and gratitude in gazing upon the scene around you? Well, the Bible is my Malvern Hill, where, through the influence of the Holy Spirit, I sometimes get such enrapturing views of heavenly things that the scenery overpowers me as it did you. I oftentimes throw myself upon my knees before my Lord, and weep tears of nothing but love; and then I cry, Put all my

tears into thy bottle,' and I know he will. In his providential dealings with me I see mercy in everything.' He 'orders all my goings;' but it is not this that so much affects me, as the glorious views I get of himself and heavenly things through the medium of his word.

"I think it the only thing worth living for to look deeply into the mystery of his word. It has long been the greatest grief of my soul that I can understand only so small a portion of it, for if the little that I do know is the very delight of my life, what must it be to look deeply? The more I look into these things, the more contemptible, insignificant, and utterly unworthy does everything else beneath the sun appear, to engage the pursuit of the mind; I mean any farther than absolute duty requires. Seeing that the earth shall soon be rolled up as a scroll, oh how I love to get a glimpse of that heaven that shall endure for ever! I weep much because there are none to open the seals.

"If our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God.' If what you said had found a mark in my conscience, I should have been terrified; for I have known what it is to be puffed up, and I have known what it is to be cast down for it; and, oh, the hiding of his countenance is so dreadful, that the very thought of it makes me tremble! But in this matter my heart condemns me not, therefore have I confidence towards you and towards God.

"I have particularly observed that those who have been down the lowest at God's feet, whom he has so humbled with the sight of their own evil hearts, that they were even driven to despair of his mercy, and to whom, to heal the bones he has broken,' he gives a great deal of the light of his countenance, are invariably considered by the world around them high-minded and presumptuous; while many who serve God with a cold, formal, slavish reverence, are considered very humble souls, and thought to serve God in a very proper manner. But is it so? Those who love much' must have been humbled, for the word of God declares it to be the direct consequence of knowing and feeling that much is forgiven them. Whereas those who deem they need but little forgiveness love little. I love much, for my God knows he has shown me that much is forgiven me.

"You tell me to be a confident Christian' by and by. But does it not rather depend on what I am confident of? I was as confident at two years' old that you loved me as I am I am confident now that I am a sinner, that God is a

now.

merciful God, that he has had mercy upon me, and that he loves me with an unspeakable love, and this is all I ever desire to be confident of while I am in the land of the living.' There was a great work passed upon me before I was humbled, but at last I was truly humble. Oh that I could have always continued in that humble frame! It is the sweetest I ever knew; even the distress and terror that attends it is sweet. God appears at such times so very near, according to his promise, to come in trouble, especially in such trouble as this. A thousand times sweeter is godly sorrow than carnal joy.

"As I said before, I was truly humble. I implored the Lord in the agony of my soul to answer me one prayer, only one; to give me by his Holy Spirit the knowledge_and feeling that I was pardoned and accepted in his Son Jesus Christ, and that if he would answer me this one request, I would never afterwards care, if I were turned into the street to wander naked and barefoot all my life. But I am sure when God brings a poor self-despairing sinner down to this, he presently raises him up again, to sit in heavenly places with Christ Jesus,' and such sudden honour has turned many a brain before mine. Those who are brought up in high life are not so much affected with its splendour. Timothy knew the Scriptures from his youth, but Paul must have lightning from heaven to bring him to the knowledge of them. However, after this, Paul mounts up higher than Timothy. We do not read of Timothy falling to the ground; but then, but then-we do not read of Timothy being caught up to the third heavens,' to hear 'unspeakable words.'

6

"I have been lower than one in a hundred that I can meet with, but I have reason to bless my God every hour in the day that I went so low, though I thought it very hard at the time, for I would not now change my spiritual enjoyments with one in ten thousand. No, I should fear to run so great a hazard.

"Oh, my dearest father, be not afraid for me, because he does indeed correct me whenever I get self-confident, but never, oh never, for expressing towards him, in the most unbounded language, the affection of my heart. "Your own daughter."

SPEAK GENTLY.

"I AM entirely at a loss to know what to do with that boy," said Mrs. Burton to her husband, with much concern on her face and in an anxious tone of voice. "I never yield to his imperious temper; I never indulge him in anything; I think about him and care about him at all times, but see no good results."

While Mrs. Burton was speaking, a bright, active boy, eight years of age, came dashing into the room, and, without heeding any one, commenced beating with two large sticks against one of the window-sills and making a deafening noise.

"Incorrigible boy!" exclaimed his mother, going quickly up to him, and jerking the sticks out of his hand, "Can I not teach you either manners or decency? I have told you a hundred times that when you come into a room where any one is sitting, you must be quiet. Go up stairs this moment, and do not let me see your face for an hour!"

The boy became sulky in an instant, and stood where he was, pouting sadly.

"Did you hear what I said? Go up stairs this moment? Mrs. Burton spoke in a very angry tone, and looked quite as angry as she spoke.

Slowly moved the boy toward the door, a scowl darkening his face, that was but a moment before so bright and cheerful. His steps were too deliberate for the over-excited feelings of the mother: she sprang toward him, and seizing him by the arm pushed him from the room, and closed the door loudly after him.

"I declare I am out of all heart!" she exclaimed, sinking down upon a chair. "It is line upon line and precept upon precept, but all to no good purpose. That boy will break my heart yet!"

Mr. Burton said nothing, but he saw plainly enough that it was not all the child's fault. He doubted the use of speaking out and saying this unequivocally, although he had often and often been on the point of doing so involuntarily. He knew the temper of his wife so well, and her peculiar sensitiveness about everything that looked like charging any fault upon herself, that he feared more harm than good would result from an attempt on his part to show her that she was much more than half to blame for the boy's perverseness of temper. Once or twice the little fellow showed himself at the door,

but was driven back with harsh words until the hour for tea arrived. The sound of the tea-bell caused an instant oblivion of all the disagreeable impressions made on his mind. His little feet answered the welcome summons with a clatter that stunned the ears of his mother.

"Go back, sir!" she said, sternly, as he burst open the dining-room door, and sent it swinging with a loud concussion against the wall, "and see if you cannot walk down stairs more like a boy than a horse."

Master Henry withdrew, pouting out his rosy lips to the distance of nearly an inch. He went up one flight of stairs, and then returned.

"Go up to the third story, where you first started from, and come down quietly all the way, or you shall not have a mouthful of supper."

"I do not want to," whined the boy.

"Go up, I tell you, this instant, or I will send you to bed without anything to eat.'

This was a threat that former experience had taught him might be executed, and so he deemed it better to submit than pay too dearly for having his own way. The distance to the third story was made in a few light springs, and then he came pattering down as lightly, and took his place at the table quickly, but silently.

"There-there, not too fast; you have plenty to eat, and time enough to eat it in."

Harry settled himself down to the table as quietly as his mercurial spirits would let him, and tried to wait until he was helped, but in spite of all his efforts to do so, his hand went over into the bread-basket. A look from his mother caused him to drop the slice he had raised; it was not a look in which there was much affection. While waiting to be helped, his hands were busy with his knife and fork, making a most unpleasant clatter.

"Put down your hands!" harshly spoken, remedied this evil, or rather sent the active movement from the little fellow's hands to his feet, that commenced a swinging motion, his heels striking noisily against the chair.

"Keep your feet still!

caused this to cease.

After one or two more reproofs, the boy was left to himself. As soon as he received his cup of tea, he poured the entire contents into his saucer, and then tried to lift it steadily to his lips. In doing so he spilled one-third of the contents upon the table-cloth.