f her best Friend, that the sword of the will hasten its helpless victim. O, Harry! d the mighty truths of Christ's religion at a ike this, when, if ever revenge could be d, Satan will persuade us it is so now. But Satanic impulse; and he exults in the cry is just now rushing like wild-fire through our d and mourning country."

en should we do nothing, mamma?" -t so; God's people can do much. Let our be the consecrated ground out of which shall some new desire, or effort, or resolve for His

her month of weary, heart-sickening susand anxiety for the fate of the sufferers, and no letter from the dear Christian mother to tell erance for herself and those she loved better fe; but the official despatch, with its bitter , told of a better deliverance, even though a massacre and death; and Harry read the first in the pale, sad countenance of his ing parent. But he said nothing: he was ting in the deep recesses of his young heart a › of glorious revenge. His mother watched nxiously as he became more and more tful and loving; and she saw that, when the ig name of "India" sounded in his ear, his eye flashed with the light of some yet secret it, that was not like the fire of vengeful anger. arry," she said, "will you put this into your nary-box for me? It is ten times what I have iven before; but it is a thank-offering for the

faith that sustained our martyred friends, and the only practical proof I can give that I wish to overcome evil with good, and desire the best of blessings for those who have hated us and ours."

Harry took the money, and dropped his mother's gift, piece by piece, deliberately into the box: then he came and sat by her side. "Mamma, dear," he said, affectionately, "you can give something more."

Yes, my prayers, dear Harry," she said, looking on him with thankful pleasure for his suggestion.

66 Something more yet, my mother. I have thought a great deal since that terrible news came, and I cannot rest until you promise that I shall be revenged. Do not start, dear mother; for it is not with my twenty schoolfellows, sword in hand. But I want to preach the Gospel over the graves of our murdered ones. Give your son, mamma; and, with God's help and blessing, I will be a Missionary to India."

The mother's heart was full-too full for words: but her son knew her too well to doubt that the fulness there was of joy and praise.

"I will help to attack, not the poor short life, but the soul that must live always," he continued. "I wanted a little while ago to exterminate traitors in man's way of vengeance; but now I want to assail their sin in God's way of love. India must be converted to Jesus, before she can be faithful to England; and we must prove to her now that the more bitter and cruel her hatred, the stronger and re determined are our efforts to benefit and

es, mamma, may a Missionary to India of every family bereaved by her mutiny lion!"

land! if thy sons and daughters will do t true glory may not be thine? From the thy slaughtered children might spring the ercise of power, and the holiest monument 1 feeling; and the Gospel in India should spread peace and obedience over the reflect at home the best blessings of pon a nation's forgiving love.

B. T.

G PEOPLE MUST HAVE THEIR

AMUSEMENTS.

a young lady of nineteen once to her She was immoderately devoted to dress, volous pleasures. Her mother would

o her, "I wish, Amelia, that you could feel as I do about these things: but I ou never will, till you are converted. ay for you." "Mother," Amelia would do not wish you to worry about me, or to ny change that will spoil my pleasures. ple, you know, must have their amuse

grace of God, at length, an impression upon her that resulted in her conversion. g admission into the church, her Minister ell, Amelia, what do you now think about ts? Are they as necessary for young you once thought they were?" She felt

the point of the inquiry, but was not disconcerted, and replied, "I still think they are necessary for the young; but the worst is, we make a wrong choice: those in which I once indulged were only the refuge of an unhappy mind. I enjoyed them, because, for the time, they made me forget myself, my mortality, and my destiny. Your preaching made me miserable, and I tried by such expedients to quiet a uneasy conscience. I now see how trifling and wicked they were. Christ has given me employ ments that make me happy. I have collected eight neglected children, and they are my class in the Sabbath-school. I find pleasure in teaching them. I find pleasure in the distribution of tracts, and conversation with the ignorant and poor. I find pleasure in our meetings for social devotion. I find pleasure in the study of the Scriptures, and in communion with God at the mercy-seat., These are now my amusements. They are necessary to me. All others are insipid and odious."

O that all our young people knew the pleasures of experimental and practical religion!

HOW TO COME TO JESUS.

THERE was once a child who was separated from his father; but he was so well able to keep that father in his mind that it consoled him many a time for the sorrows of absence. His name was Frank; and he was born in that hot country on the continent of Asia, called India. He had no mamma; and three *le sisters, who had once played with Frank, were

t of sight, and their souls were gone to the f little children: so that Frank was the eft to his father; and very dearly did the his father love one another. He had no vs of his own age; but he did not need e was a quiet boy; and from his ill-health t like rough play, but was always happy o the stories which his father told him, or side while he wrote, looking up every now to his face, but never disturbing him by noise. He told his papa all his thoughts,. thing from him; and wisely and tenderly pod parent train his little one, trying to o love the Saviour, and to give his young im.

care or love could make the roses bloom 3 pale cheeks; and soon the doctor said boy did not leave India he would die. but few English children who can bear of Calcutta, the city in which Frank's ed; and it was decided at last that he

to England to be educated. The day him to say farewell to his Indian home ar papa, who could not leave his business a, but who loved his child too well to wish im in so unhealthy a country. A lady going to England took charge of Frank: hildren of her own; and both she and ht him a strange, dull boy, so that he uch alone during the long voyage, For he was very sad, and used to sit and cry ight of his dear papa, and the long time