66

THE NOBLEMAN'S DAUGHTER.

THE daughter of an English nobleman was providentially brought under the influence of the followers of Wesley, and thus came to the saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. The father was almost distracted at the event, and by threats, temptations to extravagance in dress, by reading, and travelling in foreign countries, and to places of fashionable resort, took every means in his power to divert her mind from things unseen and eternal." But her "heart was fixed." The God of Abraham had become "her shield and exceeding great reward," and she was determined that nothing finite should deprive her of her infinite and eternal portion in Him, or displace Him from the centre of her heart. At last the father resolved upon a final and desperate experiment, by which his end should be gained, or his daughter ruined as far as her prospects in life were concerned. A large company of the nobility were invited to his house. It was so arranged, that during the festivities, the daughters of different noblemen, and among others, this one, were to be called on to entertain the company with singing and music on the piano. If she refused compliance, she would be publicly disgraced, and lose, past the possibility of recovery, her place in society. It was a dreadful crisis, and with peaceful confidence did she await it. As the crisis approached, different individuals, at the call of the company, performed their parts with the greatest applause. At last the name of his daughter was announced. In a moment all were in fixed and silent suspense to see how the scale of destiny would turn. Without hesitation, she arose, and with calm and dignified composure took her place at the instrument. After a moment spent in silent prayer, she ran her fingers along the keys, and then, with an unearthly sweetness, elevation, and solemnity,

sang, accompanying her voice with notes of the instrument, the following stanzas :

No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone;

If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
Th' inexorable throne.

No matter which my thoughts employ ;
A moment's misery or joy!

But oh! when both shall end,

Where shall I find my destined place?
Shall I my everlasting days

With filends or angels spend?

Nothing is worth a thought beneath,
But how I may escape the death

That never, never dies!

How make mine own election sure,
And when I fail on earth, secure
A mansion in the skies.

Jesus, vouchsafe a pitying ray,
Be thou my guide, be thou my way
To glorious happiness!

Oh! write the pardon on my heart!
And whensoe'er I hence depart,
Let me depart in peace.

The minstrel ceased. The solemnity of eternity was upon that assembly. Without speaking, they dispersed. The father wept aloud, and when left alone, sought the counsel and prayers of his daughter for the salvation of his soul. His soul was saved, and his great estate consecrated to Christ. I would rather be an organ of communicating such thoughts in such circumstances, and aid in the production of such results; I would rather possess wisdom thus to speak as occasion requires, than to possess all that is finite besides. What hymn, what thought in the universe could be substituted for the one then uttered? The time, the occasion, the thought expressed, the hallowed and "sweet manner" of its utterance, present full realization of all that is embraced in our idea of fitness. That surely was "a word fitly spoken."

MR. MOFFAT, in his Travels in Africa, says—“ We now directed our course towards Witte Water, where we could scarcely hope to arrive before afternoon, even if we reached it at all, for we were soon obliged to dismount, and drive our horses slowly and silently over the glowing plain, where the delusive mirage tantalized our feelings with exhibitions of the loveliest picture of lakes and pools, studded with lovely islets, and towering trees moving in the breeze on their banks. In some might be seen the bustle of a mercantile harbour, with jetties, coves, and moving rafts and oars; in others, lakes as lovely as if they had just come from the hand of the Divine Artist, a transcript of Eden's sweetest views, but all the result of highly rarefied air, or the reflected heat of the sun's rays on the sultry plain."

Was not this deception very singular? and does it not remind us of something else? Is not sinful pleasure like this deceitful mirage of the desert, for does it not always mock the expectations of those who foolishly follow after it? What we want is real pleasure-solid happiness-and these can only be found in the favour of Him who made us. "In thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand pleasures for evermore." By Jesus Christ alone are we led to the source of happiness.

"REMEMBER THY CREATOR."

BY MRS. E. C. JUDSON.

REMEMBER Him when eastern skies
Are tinged with morning radiant dyes;
Then lift your heart in earnest prayer,
And praise him for his tender care.

Remember Him as you are fed,
For He supplies your daily bread;
And from his wardrobe clothes you too,
Oh yes that Friend remembers you.

When night's soft curtains round you close And you lie down to sweet repose; Remember his all-seeing eye

Is watching o'er you from on high.

Remember Him where'er you go,
Remember Him whate'er you do;
Nor let this thought forgotten be,
The blessed God remembers me.

EARLY PIETY.

I SAW a lovely boy

Kneel down beside a chair,

Then place his head upon his hands,
And sweetly lisp a prayer.

A lovelier sight was ne'er beheld;
No mockery was his part;

The infant form thus bent in prayer,
Might shame an older heart

And there he knelt, nor moved he then,
Nor turned his little head,

Till all his prayer was finished,

The last-last word was said.
I gazed entranced upon the child,
So artless, young, and pure,
And fondly wished his little form,
Might long with us endure.

But yet methought that infant mind,
Mild as the breath of even,
Enriched with many mental gems,
Seemed ripening fast for heaven.
Oh, may that power who governs all,
For ever watch and guide him,
And spare him here for many a year,
And evil ne'er betide him.

To the Memory of Miss Ellen Gee, of Kew, who is here
supposed to have died from being stung in the eye by a Bee.
PEERLESS, yet hapless maid of Q, (Kew)
Accomplished LNG, (Ellen Gee)
Never again shall I and U (you)
Together sip our T. (tea)

For ah! the fates, I know not Y, (why)
Sent 'midst the flowers a B, (bee)
Which venomous stung her in the I, (eye)
So that she could not C. (see)

L N exclaim'd, "Vile, spiteful B!
If ever I catch U (you)

(Ellen-bee)

On jessamine, rose-bud, or sweet P, (pea)
I'll change your stinging Q. (cue)

I'll send you, like a lamb or U, (ewe)
Across the Atlantic C, (sea)

From our delightful village Q, (Kew)
To distant O Y E. (Owyhee)

A stream runs from my wounded I, (eye)
Salt as the briny C,

As rapid as the X or Y,

(sea)

(Ex or Wye) The OI O or D. (Ohio or Dee)

Then fare thee ill, insensate B!

Who stung, nor yet knew Y;

(bee)

(why)

Since not for wealthy Durham's C (see)

Would I have lost my I." (eye)

They bear with tears fair L N G, (Ellen Gee)

In funeral R A, (array)

A clay-cold corse now doom'd to B, (be)

Whilst I mourn her D K.

(decay)

Ye nymphs of Q, then shun each B, (Kew-bee)

List to the reason Y! (why)

For should a BCU at T

He'll surely sting your I.

(bee see you at tea)

(eye)

Now in a grave-yard, deep in Q, (Kew)
She's cold as cold can B; (be)

Whilst robins sing upon A U (a yew)

Her dirge and LE G. (elegy)

Hardinge's System of Short-hand.