wastes, an inheritance that never fades, a Prophet that never deceives, a Priest that never fails, a King that never tyrannizes, and a way that has glory at its close. Oh, happy people that have a Saviour! It was only this last month that I was listening to the history of one who had known all the miseries of the home of a drunken, unfaithful husband, all the sorrows of standing by the graves of ten children, and years of the bitterness of the burden of sin, who has just left all her woes on the wilderness side of the Jordan. She found that true religion is a deep, solemn, supporting reality. Her long, long illness, terminating in her death, was borne with the sweetest patience. Her soul was filled full with the love of Jesus. The nearer she approached the river the brighter was her prospect, and the more her heart beat with loving longings to be with Jesus. One of her many sweet sayings was, I never thought anybody upon the earth felt Christ so precious as I feel Him to be to me, and the nearer I approach death the more precious He is to my soul."

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A saint dying into bliss, no matter where, is an object one might look on with longing; but a Christless sinner, dying in the midst of earth's splendours, is an object well calculated to excite our horror and dread.

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'Doctor," said a despairing man of wealth, "I will give you a thousand pounds if you can keep me here one day." "I cannot keep you here one hour," said the doctor. Oh, readers, you must die, and you must either die out of Christ or in Christ.

My heart is going out with longing after the salvation of your precious souls. What if the GLEANER pleased you and never profited you? it would not answer my ends. I want to see your

souls profited. The fire of hell or the joys of heaven must soon receive my every reader. Which will receive you?

I must not close without a word about the scene in our engraving. Now I quite believe it is right to kill the creatures sent us for purposes of food, and I believe there is no more humane way of putting an end to the life of a bird than by shooting it. But shooting for sport is such a relic of barbarism as is unworthy of an age of civilization. To be a kind of butchers for the sport of butchery, is what I hope none of my young readers will choose to be.

THE INDIAN CHIEF.

JUDGE W, who was one of the earliest settlers in the western part of New York, established himself at Whitestown, about four miles from Utica; the whole country around him being at that time an unbroken forest, inhabited by savage tribes, who had been for ages the sole possessors of the soil.

Judge W, feeling how much he was at their mercy in his lonely position, was anxious to keep on good terms with them, and secure their good will in return. Many of the chiefs, hearing of his friendly disposition, had been to visit him, carrying presents in acknowledgment of the gifts he had sent them; but he was much troubled that one old chief of the Seneca tribe, possessing great influence among his people, had never either visited him or sent him any sign of welcome since his settlement in that region.

After long consideration, the Judge resolved to seek an interview with the sachem in his own

wigwam, and by this mark of attention secure his friendship, on which, perhaps, his safety might depend. His family consisted of a widowed daughter and her only child, a fine boy of four years of age; so taking them with him, he set off to pay a visit to the old chief. He found him seated at the door of his tent, enjoying the balmy air of a fine summer morning, and was received by him with grave courtesy and kindness.

Judge W- presented his daughter and her little son to the aged chief, and, desirous to make a favourable impression on him, said they had come to live in his country; that they were anxious to dwell on terms of amity and good fellowship with the Indians, and be useful to them by introducing among them the arts of civilization. The chief listened to his words, and then said—

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Brother, you ask much and promise much; what pledge can you give of your faith ?"

"The honour of a man who never knew deception," was the reply.

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The white man's word may be good to the white man, yet it is but wind when spoken to the Indian," said the sachem.

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I have put my life into your hands by coming hither," said the Judge; "is not this an evidence of my good intentions? I have placed confidence in the Indian, and I will not believe that he will abuse or betray the trust I have reposed in him.” 'So much is well," replied the chief; "the Indian repays confidence with confidence; if you will trust him he will trust you. But I must have a pledge. Leave this boy with me in my wigwam, and I will bring him back to you in three days with my answer.'

دو

If an arrow had pierced the bosom of the mother she could not have felt a sharper pang

than that which the Indian's proposal caused her. She flew towards her boy, who stood beside the sachem, looking into his face with pleased and innocent wonder, and snatching him in her arms, would have rushed away with him. A gloomy frown overspread the sachem's brow and he remained silent. But Judge W knew that perhaps the very lives of himself and family depended upon the action of that moment, and following his daughter as she was retreating with her child into the forest, he said bastily—

Stay, stay, my daughter; bring back the boy, I beseech you. I would not risk a hair of his head, for he is not more dear to you than to me-but my child, he must remain with the chief! God will watch over him, and he will be as safe in the sachem's wigwam as in your arms beneath our own roof."

She yielded, and her darling boy was left; but who can describe the agony of the mother during the ensuing days! Every night she awoke from her sleep, seeming to hear the screams of her child calling upon its mother for help. How slowly and drearily passed the hours! But at last the third day came. The morning waned away, and the afternoon was far advanced, yet the sachem came not. There was a gloom over the whole house, and the mother, pale and silent, walked her room in despair. Judge W- filled with anxious doubts and fears, went every moment to the door, looking through the opening in the forest towards the sachem's abode.

At last, just as the rays of the setting sun were thrown upon the tops of the tall trees around, the eagle feathers of the chieftain were seen dancing above the bushes in the distance. He advanced rapidly, and the little boy was at his side. He

was gaily attired as a young chief, his feet dressed in mocassins, a fine beaver-skin thrown over his shoulders, and eagles' feathers stuck in his hair. He was in joyous spirits, and so proud of his honours that he seemed two inches taller than before. He was soon clasped in his mother's arms, and in that brief moment of joy she seemed to pass from death to life.

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The white man has conquered!" said the sachem; "hereafter let us be friends. You have trusted the Indian, he will repay you with confidence and friendship."

lived

He was true to his word, and Judge Wmany years, laying there the foundation of that flourishing and prosperous community which has now spread over a wide extent of country.

HEARING THE WORD GLADLY. "His right hand, and His holy arm, hath gotten Him the victory."-PSALM xcviii. 1.

A MINISTER in Ireland was preaching from this text, when there came into the church a little, ragged, pale-faced boy. He sat near the pulpit, and seemed to drink in God's truth. Next Sunday he came; but after that the minister missed him.

ill;

Two months passed away, when, late one night, an Irishman knocked at his door, and said, "Oh, sir, come away to my little boy; he is very but he heard ye preach, and he wants to see you The minister said, "I will come in the morning." Oh, but plase your riverence, the morning will be too late; ye must come to-night, for he is dying!"