will be beyond the sounding and measuring of our own faculties. Sin is an infinite evil: against it we can strive with unbounded indignation. To put it away from us, we must slay him who is fatally infected, and whose infection will spread; but not toward him are we necessitated to entertain any thing but love: the whole fervor of our hate is against that snake whose deadly venom has utterly tainted his blood. Let who will jeer at the man or the woman who goes into the penitentiary, the prison, the condemned cell, with the Bible, to try to rescue for heaven those whom society must banish from earth. If Nature calls that a vain or absurd task, Christianity speaks differently. To every objection—of hopelessness, of sentimentalism, of enthusiasm - the Christian can simply answer, There was once a thief to whom the gospel was preached in the mortal agony, and that night he walked with the Preacher in Paradise. Bayne. THE TEACHER. There was in a certain Mission School a certain old lady, as teacher, whose heart never grew cold towards children, whose love for them was always fresh and green. She had a class of unruly boys placed in her charge. They could not be restrained: Sabbath after Sabbath they had let out their wicked natures in the presence of their teachers, and it was thought nothing could be done with them. Teacher after teacher had given them over in despair, and resigned the class. At last they asked this old lady to take charge of these boys. She consented. She went to them from her closet, went to them with love to God and love to their souls. When she came before them, she picked out one whom she thought to be the ringleader among them, and began to talk with him. "Do you love God?" she asked. "No!" "Do you love your mother?" "No!" "Do you love your friends?" "No! I don't love God, nor my mother, nor nobody; and I'm not coming any more to Sabbath school!" The old lady's heart was touched, and she said, Why, if any of my sons should say he did not love his mother, it would break my heart!" and the thought of the condition of the boy so overcame her that she burst into tears and wept over him. He, too, was affected; he, too, burst into tears; and from that moment that boy and that old lady were united in heart. At the close of the school, he said to the superintendent, "I love that old lady, and I'm always coming to this school, and she shall be my teacher!" That class was pointed out to me as a model class in a very large school. It was love that bound that boy's heart so closely to that of his teacher, and he was only the representative of the whole class. GO, DAUGHTER; SIN NO MORE! She stood before her Saviour, so beautiful, yet pale, It traced no color on her lip, upon her cheek no stain. All hopeless in her wretchedness, she closed her tearful eye, And in her deep and withering shame she stood alone to die! Stern men were gathering round her; dark looks and words of scorn Fell fast upon that sinful one, the erring and forlorn; For woman's darkest guiltiness had rested on her brow, And none among that vengeful throng might speak to save her now. They told him all her fearful fault, when passion's voice grew strong; They claimed a fearful sacrifice to expiate the wrong ; They pointed him, in mockery, to where their statute stood, Yet craved his judgment ere they bathed their garments in her blood. But he, that meek and lowly one, the sinless and the pure, Sore felt for all the agony that weighed that bitter hour; And while his eye, all passionless, swept round that thronging band, He bade the clean and guiltless there to raise the avenging hand! They turned them from the judgment-hall- those darkbrowed men- each one, And left the sinful sufferer with him, her Lord, alone. Oh, do not think those blessed words lost aught of saving power, As on her ear fell soothingly, "Go, daughter; sin no more!" "Go, daughter; sin no more!" Are these the words ye utter now, When weakness or when heartlessness hath felt or struck the blow? When some one, all too carelessly,— some bright and beam ing star, Hath ventured in forbidden paths too rashly or too far? Or when o'er artless innocence, too pure to pierce the wile, Some craven coward triumphs, and glories in the guile? – Are these the words with which ye bind a bleeding heart That soothing balm to misery,-"Go, daughter; sin no more "? Ah, no! but, like the timid herd, the stricken deer ye shun; Ye fly the wounded wanderer while the cruel hunt rolls on ; But, all unlike the startled herd, ye court the huntsman bold, And seem to dare the spoiler's aim, or point him to the fold; While the poor outcast, crushed to earth, drinks deep the dregs of crime, And fills an early, noteless grave - a lost one prime. ere her Ye think of those old Pharisees as weak, unholy men, And doubtless deem those blessed words a heavenly mercy then : They pointed to their written law, that proud and erring throng; And ye to public sentiment, as proudly and as long. J. D. Bangs. WILLIAM L. GARRISON. In a small chamber, friendless and unseen, Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man : |