asleep-of falling into the river-and the water getting into my eyes, and ears, and mouth-and the strange gurgling sound I heard and how I awoke struggling with my arms and beating the bed clothes as if trying to swim and get out of the water.

Neither can I tell you how thankful my dear mother was when she knew all about it, and how she thanked God Almighty for sparing my life, and hoped I would now be a good boy, and never go with bad companions any more.

And now I ought to tell you that I have since then been saved from a greater danger. Let me explain myself. All who sin against God Almighty-that is, all who do wrong; for to do wrong, and love to do wrong, is sin-are in danger of being punished for their sin. I felt that I had done wrong. But I read in my Testament that the Son of God, Jesus Christ, came into the world to save sinners, by dying for them on the cross; and I read his words, "Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." So I cried to him in my prayers to save mc, and he did. And now I hope I am saved from going to the bad place where all go who do not repent of their sins, and go to the Saviour for his help. You must do so, my young reader, for you, as well as all others, have done wrong to God. But if you are only sorry for your sins, and come to Jesus Christ, he will save you, for he has said he You may die soon-you do not know die in your sins, you cannot go to Think about these things, and God J. B. L.

་ ་

will. But come now. how soon-and if you Jesus Christ in heaven. will bless you,

JOTTINGS FROM MY JOURNAL.

NO. II. LESSONS FROM AN OLD LAMP-POST.

"LESSONS from a lamp-post," says one of my young readers, quite astonished; "that is funny." But why be surprised? If we may obtain sermons from stones," why not a short lesson from an old lamp-post? Now, the lamp of which I am about to write is one of the old oil lamps, and has some peculiar features, which, I am sorry to say, reflect but little credit on itself or those who allow it to remain where it is. The most noticeable is its dirty state. By day it offends the eye; and the stranger, looking at the black, besmeared object, as it stands obtruding itself to his view, would wonder for what use it was intended. By night, it only throws a murky, dark red glare for a few yards around, and is of little more use than a rushlight would be in a London fog. Yet this dirty and almost useless old post might be painted and kept clean, and instead of oil it might be well supplied with that wonderful fluid called gas. Now, is it not a pity that it is not? The post is placed, as we suppose, where light is very much needed. There is a cluster of houses on the opposite side of the road, but the people can reap but little benefit from the old oil lamp. The wonder with me has been, how they could rest contented with so dull and dismal a thing. But some people are not careful to get the best light, or to keep it. But dark as the old lamp is, I expect it will treat lightly anything I may say about it. It has many good examples in other places, but it seems to heed them not. Down in the valley in yon other town are lights shining,

turning the darkness almost into daylight. And on the Railway viaduct yonder are the blue and red lights, giving variety with their beauty. Compared with all these, what a dull affair is this murky oil light! But it cannot long go on thus. It must get out of the way. People wont be satisfied with its dulness when they know they can have something brighter and better.

But what lesson do I mean by all this? Why, that some boys and girls are like the dull old oil lamp. They dont shine at all hardly. The light that is in them is almost darkness. They want more pure bright light, and I want to tell them where to get it. Jesus Christ said, "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." Until you come to Christ for new light you will be in the old darkness. Come to Him who is the "True Light," and he will shine on your path through life, brighten with his presence the valley of the shadow of death, and take you where the light of his glory will shine on you for ever!

All this good, and more than I can tell you, will this light be to you if you come to Jesus Christ for it now. And beside all this for yourself, you will then shed light on others, as our blessed Lord himself said, "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven."

So dont be all your life only like an old oil lamp-post.

ETIENNE.

Newport, I. W.

LUCY.

In affectionate remembrance of an adopted child.
GRIEVE not that she from earth is gone,

The gentle, young, and fair;

Though nurtur'd with the tenderest love,
And soothed with all that heart can soothe;
"Twas Jesus call'd his child above

His bliss to share.

From this chill world, for her too cold,
She early pass'd away;

Transplanted to a brighter clime,

And 'tended by a hand divine,

She blooms where endless summers shine,

In realms of day.

Yet, as the dying rose emits

A fragrance all around,

So does her history perfume

The place which once she call'd her home,
Before she fill'd the narrow tomb

Beneath the ground.

Beloved she was, and justly too,

So pensive and so mild;

Her godly conversation proved

How much her Saviour's name she loved;

Nor was she from her hope ere moved,

Though but a child.

Yes! to the last no doubtings came,

Her end was perfect peace;

Jesus his lamb in safety kept,

"Till she upon his bosom slept;

And friends rejoic'd while still they wept,
At her decease.

Lucy, farewell! we yet shall meet

Beyond the darksome tomb,

When the last trump of God shall sound,

And all who life in Christ have found,
Shall rise in triumph from the ground-
"Lord Jesus, come !"

A. M.

Banbury.

THE DYING CHILD.

THE summer sun was sinking fast,

In the glowing western sky,

And its beams glanc'd into a curtain'd room,
Where a child lay down to die.

"God is so pure, my child," 'twas said,
"Upon evil he cannot look;

His hand hath written our numberless sins
In his own most awful book.

Why then is your soul so free from dread,
As into his presence you rise;

Why hope you the golden streets to tread,
To dwell in the holy skies?"

"I have no fear," said the faint weak child,
As robed in the evening beam,
She lay on the couch without any alarm,
Though near to the cold dark stream.

"But are you not a sinful child?
Will God your soul receive?
And Heaven is light and purity!
There the holy alone can live!"

"I have no fear," still said the child,

And a strange joy shone on her face,
As though she now had reached the world
Prepar'd for the purified race.

"In Heaven I'm sure the Saviour is,

And near him I shall stand,

And I shall be clad in his glory bright,

In that happy, happy land.".

And the light was more bright which came from the sky,
And fell on the child as she lay,

So unearthly white that it looked like a shroud

Which angels had brought for her clay.

For Jesus had heard that little lambs voice

As there on her couch she lay,

And his ministering spirits had now come down
To fetch her young soul away.

W. T. H.