Lesson for an Indolent Disciple.

"Strive to enter in at the strait gate; for many,
you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able."

say unto

FFORT is the price of success in every department of human action. From the attainment of rudimental knowledge to the salvation of the soul, every progressive step is made by undaunted toil. The boy who drones over his book, a slave to listless laziness, thereby secures a place for himself at the foot of society. The man who shrinks from difficulties in his business or profession -who refuses to climb because the rock is sharp, and the way steep, must make up his mind to slide back, and to lie in the shadows below, while others use him as a stepping

block for their own rising. For this, such is the constitution of society, there is no help. The poet wrote truly, who said—

"Thou must either soar or stoop,
Fall or triumph, stand or droop;
Thou must serve or govern;
Must be slave, or must be sovereign;
Must, in fine, be block or wedge,
Must be anvil, or be sledge."

And these words of Jesus teach thee this lesson, O Christian, with respect to thy salvation ! Eternal life can be secured only by eager, earnest toiling along the narrow way of duty. That way is well defined, and free of access to all who sternly will to enter it; but its entrance is beset with difficulties, and all along its length are obstacles and ambushed foes seeking to turn the fainting traveller aside. He who, like Bunyan's Timorous and Mistrust, flees from the voice of lions, is undone. He may desire to triumph; he may even make feeble and spasmodic attempts to tread the path; but unless he strive with all the energy of his nature, stimulated by the Divine influences which attend the exercise of a true faith, he will not be able to enter in. Thus hath the Master said, and thus shouldst thou believe, O disciple!

And why should you object to agonise and strive, when the prize is eternal life? It is said of Tasso the poet, that the manuscripts of his "Jerusalem Delivered" were so blotted with innumerable corrections, as to be scarcely legible. Another poet, Pope, kept his works in his study from one to two years before he allowed them to be printed. Now, if to secure all the perfection possible to their writings, these poets strove so painfully, how much more ought you to strive for the purity of your heart and the salvation of your soul!

Strive mightily, therefore, O Christian, since, to shake off an indolent spirit, to stir your soul to exertion, to reach constantly upward, to struggle for a firm foothold in the most slippery places,-to wrestle manfully, even when principalities and powers are your foes, to refuse submission to any evils, however frowning-are conditions you must either fulfil, or sink to littleness, or uselessness, perchance to ruin. Therefore, with a brave heart and an unconquerable spirit, you must address yourself to the work of the day, striving, with pure aims and religious trust, for an increase of your talents, and for such a victory

over sin as will enable you to stand unabashed in the last day.

Striving thus, you need fear no failure. Your triumph, though delayed for a time, shall come at last. Say, then, with the poet

"So let it be. In God's own might

We gird us for the common fight;

And strong in Him, whose cause is ours,

In conflict with unholy powers,

We grasp the weapons He has given

The light, the truth, the love of Heaven."

PURSUIT AFTER HAPPINESS.

No longer I follow a sound,
No longer a dream I pursue;
O happiness not to be found!
Unattainable treasure, adieu !

I have sought thee in splendour and dress,
In the regions of pleasure and taste;
I have sought thee, and seem'd to possess,
But have proved thee a vision at last

An humble ambition and hope,

The voice of true wisdom inspires: "Tis sufficient, if peace be the scope

And the summit of all our desires.

Peace may be the lot of the mind

That seeks it in meekness and love;
But rapture and bliss are confined

To the glorified spirits above.

B

COWPER.

CHAPTER III.

Words of Comfort for Desponding Disciples.

"In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome THE WORLD."

HERE is an island in a distant sea, from whose shores the fisher

men sail in tiny crafts to procure

the treasures of the deep. During their absence thick mists often descend and cover highland, cliff, and beacon with so thick a veil, that these hardy mariners are left without a mark by which to steer their laden barks. But in these dull hours they are not left to wander, unguided, on the pathless sea. When the time for their return arrives, the women of the islet-mothers, wives, sisters,