standing a resolution he had formed, and for some time adhered to, to discontinue his weekly visits to his uncle. A voice within him seemed to say "Go," and yet the brief note gave no clue to what was in the mind of the writer. Accordingly, on the Saturday, as soon as his business was concluded and his office closed, he set off, accompanied by his wife. They were kindly welcomed by their relatives; dinner was soon announced, and the evening passed quietly away. The ordinary topics of the day engrossed the conversation, until the guests retired for the night. It had not, however, escaped their observation that their host was unusually quiet and subdued, and that no oath had escaped his lips during the evening, whereas he had been in the habit of swearing frequently. The Sabbath day came with all its holy and thrilling memories, and its hushed solemnity. The party repaired as usual to the house of God. The service over, Mr. A proposed that the ladies should return home, while he and his nephew took a walk. Leaving the public road, they turned their steps towards the green lanes that skirted the town. For some time the two proceeded in silence. The elder man appeared to be preoccupied and absorbed, and the younger did not like to disturb his companion. At length they reached a retired spot, when Mr. A suddenly stopped, and laying his hand on the shoulder of his nephew, he burst into tears. Alarmed, as well as astonished at so unusual a display of feeling, the young man inquired what was the matter. only bewildered him the more. Mr. A- —, in a voice of strong emotion.

The answer to his query "Thou art the man!" said

"What do you mean, uncle? I don't understand you," he said.

"I mean," replied Mr. A

"that I am the man who has lived from youth to age in utter forgetfulness of God, and disregard of His laws."

He then related how he had been led to read the Bible, and how the words of the prophet Nathan had seemed to condemn his whole life of ungodliness; and, "Oh!" he

exclaimed, with intense earnestness, "tell me what I must do !"

Joy and thankfulness filled the heart of the young man, as he replied in the words of Paul to the Philippian jailer, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." And deep joy and thankfulness filled the breast of the contrite sinner as he heard of the wondrous love of God, who gave His Son to die for sinners: "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Here, indeed, is rest for the weary; balm for the broken heart. The blood shed on Calvary avails to wash out sins of the deepest dye: "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." And this forgiveness through the blood of Christ is a full and free forgiveness. "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," are the words of our Divine Master. "Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." To the sinner humbled under the sense of sin, groaning beneath a burden too heavy to be borne, shrinking in anguish of mind from the just wrath of his offended God, this young servant of Christ unfolded the promises of God in His Word; and not more refreshing is rain to the parched earth than was the glad tidings of the Saviour's love to this sin-burdened soul. "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief," found an echo in his inmost heart. "He cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief." And believing, he found peace with God. "Reconciled to Him by the death of His Son," he no longer beheld in Him the angry Judge, but the tender and loving Father, whom to serve and obey should be henceforth the aim and joy of his life. As Mary Magdalene, when the Lord revealed Himself to

her, said unto Him, "Rabboni ;" so, in like manner, he made the meet response for one who has sinned much, and been much forgiven, "Master." What a depth of love, and tenderness, and gratitude is comprehended in that one word, 'Master," as uttered by a loving disciple! "Master, I love Thee; my whole life shall be a tribute of gratitude to Thee." It seems to say

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"Were the whole realm of Nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my life, my soul, my all."

"For the love of Christ constraineth us," "That they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him that died for them and rose again." Reader, does the love of Christ so constrain thee? Or art thou a stranger to God, "in the gall of wickedness and the bond of iniquity?" If so, hasten to accept the promises of God in His gospel made to all who, feeling their sins a burden too heavy to be borne, flee to Christ as the only refuge from the terrors of an accusing conscience. "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out," are the words of Him who waiteth to be gracious; and oh! beware of despising His loving invitations of resisting the strivings of His Spirit within thee -lest the time should come when He shall say, "Because I called, and ye refused; I have stretched out My hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all My counsel, and would none of My reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh." Art thou already the servant of Christ? Let thy service be a hearty one, whatsoever thy estate in life. "Let thy light so shine

before men that they may see thy good works, and glorify thy Father which is in heaven." Work diligently "while it is day, for the night cometh when no man can work." For soon another day shall dawn, when the faithful servants of their Lord shall receive the Master's greeting: "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a

few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

"I heard the voice of Jesus say,

Come unto Me and rest;

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down

Thy head upon My breast.

I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary and worn and sad;
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He has made me glad.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Behold, I freely give

The living water: thirsty one,

Stoop down and drink, and live.

I came to Jesus, and I drank

Of that life-giving stream.

My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
And now I live in Him."

Words, and what came of them.

I. HOLY WORDS.

HERE had been a funeral in our village churchyard. It was a very humble one; there were no hired mourners, but there were many real ones. Poor women had managed to put on pieces of crape; old John, the sexton, had tolled the bell with a certainty that he never would be paid for doing so (an uncommon incident in his life); tears had rained upon that poor black-painted coffin, and the voice of the clergyman had been tremulous with emotion: and when we asked who had been buried, the reply was: "Oh, poor Mary has been taken from us. Poor Mary who lived in that little tumble-down cottage at the end of the lane." We sat down under the tree, and watched the little group of mourners as they turned away with such unfeigned sorrow in their faces. The sexton silently and almost reverently filled in the grave.

And we sat awhile watching the rays of the setting sun, as they slanted across the newly-made grave, bathing everything around in a beautiful light. We had been there some time when we saw the churchyard gate open, and a tall handsome woman approached; she knelt beside the grave, and shed such bitter tears, such tears as only come to the relief of strong natures, and then we could see her whole frame quiver with suppressed emotion. We asked her if she had lost a relation in the occupant of that grave. “No, not what the world calls a relation, but one I loved more than any earthly friend, for she saved me from ruin. I had sinned, I had fallen, I was a lost one; every eye was turned coldly or scornfully away from me: and when the door of every decent house was closed against me, and, driven to despair, I was about to end my wretched life by suicide, then Mary came, dear Mary! Like her Master, she pitied me, vile as I was; she spoke of mercy even for me, and whispered words of hope. She told me how much kinder God was than man, and her words were life to me. And when I tried to win an honest livelihood and found it so very hard, Mary cheered me and spoke so hopefully that I felt a new life springing up within me; and she shared her crust with me when I had not one of my own; and, better than all, she told me of that Fountain where I could wash my sins away, and I washed; and now I tell others of that Stream, others as vile as I, and many have washed and are clean." Oh, Mary, your holy words are not dead yet!— poor humble villager, the effects of your words will last as long as eternity! Yes, holy words coming from a holy heart are one of God's most powerful instruments.

When the bank broke, and brought poverty an unwelcome guest to the hearts of many who had never known it but by report, poor Mary, who had not a penny in it, was sorely distressed for those who had suffered. There was Miles, the grocer, who had spent a life of frugality and industry in amassing money, and now in one day all was gone. Poor Miles, he had loved his money over-well, and