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WHAT a pleasant thing is a happy home! Dear children, do you try to make home happy? Do you love and obey your parents? Do you think enough of their anxious thoughts and wishes for you? Do you prize their love, which every day is like sunshine round you? Some men love their gold above everything; they store it away, they count it again and again, they look at it with glistening eyes; but your parents love you. Some men love their houses and lands; they spend much time and pains to adorn them; they think and plan and take counsel, and spare no expense; but you are more to your parents than any estate. Some men love themselves; they live to eat and drink and sleep; they take no thought for others; they live for themselves alone; but your parents live for you. Some children do not think of this. They do not live as if they were their father's treasure; they are more like the sharp rough stones that cut our feet than precious jewels, more like thorns than roses in the household nosegay. They are disobedient and troublesome and wicked; they cause pain and sorrow and anxiety. They forget God's commandment to honour their father and mother. But how happy are those homes where parents watch over their children in the fear of God; and where children delight to render to their parents honour and reverence. How blessed the cottage where parents and children kneel morning and evening in true prayer!

Children, do you wish to have a happy home? If so, never forget how much you owe your parents. Try with cheerful feet, and willing hands, and gentle voices to give them pleasure. Seek, by thoughtful deeds and kind words, to help


and comfort them; show by good temper and steady obedience, that you honour them. Return them, if you can, a thousand-fold their love.— Mothers' Treasury.


ON January 28th, 1869, in visiting a God-fearing woman, who was passing through deep affliction, after hearing some of the Lord's dealings with her, she told me of a child she had in bed-one that she felt impressed would never recover from the disease she was suffering from. She said, "My child hangs heavy upon my mind. I could give her up if I knew she were fit to die, and the Lord would take her to Himself: but if He were to take her, and I had no hope, with my present heavy afflictions, it would be more than I could bear." She reads the Bible, and I ask her questions, but can get no answer.





She asked me to go upstairs and see her. I did so, when the following conversation took place: How long have you been ill ?" "Ten weeks," she replied. Should you like to get well again?" The answer was, "Yes, sir." How do you spend your time ?" "I read the Bible." "What part do you read ?" "I read all through, but I have been reading the book of Genesis. I like to read of Moses." I said, "What do you see in Moses? He was a good man." No answer. "Do you read the New Testament ?" "Yes; I read of Jesus Christ, that He came into the world to save sinners." I said, "Yes; He came into the world o save sinners; but, being so young, what sins can you have ? "A good many, sir." "Are you roubled about your sins ?" Yes; I have been



troubled about my sins since 1 came to Birmingham, and since I have been afflicted." "What do you do when you are troubled ?" "I pray." "Do you think your sins are forgiven?" She said, "Not all of them." "Do you think God will forgive all your sins ?" 'I don't know." I asked her what she had done so bad; she said, "I have told stories; and God struck Ananias, and Sapphira his wife, dead for telling a lie." I said, "Do you fear lest He should strike you ?" "Yes." I said, "What do you long for most ?" She answered, "To have my sins forgiven, and go to Jesus. I don't want to get well, if God will forgive me my sins." "Do you find the word of God sweet when you read it ?" She said, "I did the day before yesterday; that verse was sweet: 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' That made me comfortable in my mind; I have not been so uncomfortable since." I told her that if she confessed her sins, and mourned over them, Christ would forgive her. I visited her again, and found her longing for forgiveness.

Feb. 8th.-I visited her a third time, and found her very ill. Her medical attendant had the day before pronounced her dying, but she could say, "Dying, but, behold, I live." Her mother said that two days before she appeared full of the love of God. She said, "I love father, mother, and Mr. D, but I love Jesus Christ better." After this short conversation with her mother, I asked her what she longed for most. She said, "To die, go to Christ." I reminded her that she told me her sins were not all pardoned. She said, "They are now. The Lord pardoned me on Saturday, when I was so happy. I asked if she were happy She replied, "I feel comfortable, but not



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like I did on Saturday." I read to her part of Revelations vii., and prayed, then left her. She afterwards told her mother that the chapter just described her feelings.

After this she was tempted to believe that the Bible was not the word of God. She said, "I turned to the place where Satan tempted Christ, and while reading I received strength to overcome him." A day or two afterwards she appeared to be breathing her last. Her mother, who was anxiously watching her, heard her say," Victory." Soon after this she revived, when her mother asked her what made her say victory. She said, "Satan came as if he would destroy me, but Jesus came and Satan went away." Another time she was heard to say, "Lord Jesus, do come quickly; do come and take me to Thy everlasting kingdom and glory. O Lord, if this is Thy appointed time, do take me to Thy glory." Nothing troubled her so much as to tell her she might get better.

Feb. 15.-I saw her again. Her disease being dropsy, she was much swollen, in great pain, and groaning incessantly. She could not turn herself in bed, with large bladders under her eyes, and her feet, legs, and body unusually enlarged. She was a spectacle of suffering that made one ready to exclaim with Mr. Hart in his hymn

"O thou hideous monster sin,

What a curse hast thou brought in;

All creation groans through thee,
Pregnant cause of misery.'

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After this she lay several days in great pain but very patient, longing to depart; she said, "O Lord Jesus, do come quickly and take me to Thyself; O Lord, why dost Thou not come? Didst Thou not say Thou wouldst come and take me?" She

said, "Mother, why doesn't the Lord fetch me? what good can I do here?" After this she said, "O mother, do pray for me; I am so troubled with temptations."

Feb. 20.-I had a short conversation with her. I asked her if she were afraid of dying; she said, "No; I want to die; for I know where I am going to." She said she "loved to hear prayer and the word of God read." She was again assaulted by the enemy with such force that she wrung her hands, and exclaimed, "Oh, mother, do pray for me; I cannot bear these temptations." Soon after, she said, "Mother, I have had such a sweet word, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be.' One of her sisters was ordered by her mother to fetch her some brandy. After her mother left the room, she entreated her sister not to fetch it, saying, "I do not want brandy; I want to die and be with Jesus."

On Sunday morning she said, "Mother, sing a hymn;" but her mother, worn with care, hardly worked by day, and no rest at night, felt little inclined to sing, but she said, "Mother, do try." She complied, and sang the well-known hymn, "Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly;
While the raging billows roll,

While the tempest still is high."

This being done, she said, "Now sing my favourite,” in which she helped:

"Lo, He comes with clouds descending,

Once for favour'd sinners slain;
Thousand thousand saints attending,

Swell the triumph of His train."

Sunday afternoon she was asked if she would have some hymns read; she said, "No, I want to

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