occupation: her efforts were everywhere successful, for she laboured con amore. When prevented from attending to her duties as teacher or visitor by occasional indisposition, she felt the deprivation keenly. She would allow no minor considerations to interfere with her punctuality. Consumption began to threaten her health, but she bore up bravely against it for many months. Towards the close of the year 1872, it became evident that the insidious disease had a fatal hold upon her constitution. Experienced physicians pronounced the case hopeless, and warned her to desist from her labours. But the work lay too near her heart; she could not yet tear herself away from it. The last time she was out of the house, was the Sunday before Christmas-day, when she paid her final visit to the Sunday-school. On the following day her medical attendant noticed her failing strength, and positively forbade her even to attend the school. Thus was one of the dearest springs of her earthly happiness sealed; and it cost her many a tear. During her illness she exhibited a patient, uncomplaining demeanour, worthy of a Christian heroine. Indeed, her physician declared "she complained too little." Had she been less reticent as to her pain, it might have been mitigated. On the evening of December 31st, her thoughts were running out after the assemblies of God's people in the watch-night services. Though unable to be personally present, her desires were with them; and as the period approached when the Methodist congregations fall upon their knees in silent prayer, she, too, watching for the moment, fell upon her knees, and mingled her supplications with theirs. She lingered till Sunday, the 16th of March, 1873, when she passed from earth to heaven. She was born on the Sabbath, and on the Sabbath she died. It was her favourite day, the pivot of the week to her. It was a fountain whose streams lasted through the secular days. As her disease approached its fatal end, her mind became more and more impressed with eternal things. But it was during the fortnight immediately preceding her death, that her faith shone forth with all its power. It was called into pleasing expression by the numbers of friends who visited her. Their affection she reciprocated with extreme delight, and in attestation of her gratitude she carefully copied out, as long as she was able, the names of her visitors, beginning with those of the ministers and the officers of the school. This inventory of affection comprised forty-one names, when she became too ill to write. She daily received visits from solicitous friends, and with them her conversation became more and more heavenly. Sometimes her joys were elevated to a pitch of ecstasy, and she seemed to be upon Jacob's ladder, ascending and descending with the angels. A short while before her death she had a remarkable dream. She thought she had crossed the dark river with an angelic convoy, and entered the pearly gates. Her eye looked upon the "King in His beauty," and the land that was no longer afar off. There was Jesus, the Angel of the Covenant; and there the "multitude that no man can number." From ten thousand harps vibrated harmonies that filled her heart with rapture. In her calm, waking hours the glory of the celestial place still inspired her heart and dwelt upon her tongue. It was one of those foretastes of heavenly bliss with which the dying Christian is sometimes favoured; one of those glimpses of the inheritance caught from the Pisgah-crest of faith. The charm of the dream sparkled in her thoughts like the dew of Hermon, and sweetened all her converse like the anointing of a priest. She was repeatedly heard to ejaculate, "The beautiful place!" and constantly urged all in the room to be sure to meet her in heaven. "There's nothing to do," she exhorted, "but just to come, as I did, by faith to Jesus; all come! all come!" To her only sister, who wept with an excess of grief, she said, "Harriet, don't fret, for I am going to Jesus." A lady who visited her frequently and heard her own recital of her dream, states, "I felt as if I were PORTFOLIO.-NOTICES OF BOOKS. talking to one who had been in heaven, and was permitted to come and tell us of the beauties of the place, in order to encourage us to persevere in the way thither. This visit did me much good, and I came away feeling I had had a great privilege, being forcibly reminded of the words of Young, 'The chamber where the good man meets his fate," " etc. But these extraordinary elations of soul were not confined to dreams. She enjoyed them in her waking moments. After lying peacefully for some time, she would suddenly raise herself up in a listening attitude, and exclaim, "There is some music! they are playing harps; it is like a grand Hallelujah chorus!" At another time she would suddenly start up with the exclamation, “There are angels in this room! don't you see ?" A few days before her death, her Damascus. 47 friends noticed a singular change in her countenance. Its extreme pallor assumed an almost unearthly brightness. Her eyes gleamed with a strange, deep lustre. They saw her face "as it had been the face of an angel." Her features took the resemblance of marble in their beautiful whiteness and transparency; the glory of heaven rested upon her brow. She retained this statue-like expression till the hour of her death. As the end drew near her words were few, but full of meaning. Ascriptions of praise to God escaped frequently from her lips. The hymn commencing, ""Tis religion that can give," she recited and sung with great feeling. And when the end came, her faith was firm and her smile was bright. She faintly murmured, "All's right! all's well!" and then, without a struggle and without a groan, while her friends knelt in prayer, her spirit winged its way to rest. PORTFOLIO. THE desert is a fortification round Damascus. The river is its life. It is drawn out into watercourses, and spread in all directions. For miles around it is a wilderness of gardens,-gardens with roses among the tangled shubberies, and with fruit on the branches overhead. Everywhere the murmur of unseen rivulets is heard among the trees. Even in the city, which is in the midst of the garden, the clear rushing of the current is a perpetual refreshment. Every dwelling has its fountain; and at night, when the sun has set behind Mount Lebanon, the lights of the city are seen flashing on the waters. It is not to be wondered at that the view of Dasmascus, when the dim outline of the gardens has become distinct, and the city is seen gleaming white in the midst of them, should be universally famous.-Conybeare and Howson. NOTICES OF BOOKS Suitable for a Sunday-school Library. Incidents in My Sunday-School Life; or, Short Chapters for Teachers and Scholars. By LILLIE MONTFORT. London: Wesleyan Conference Office. 1873.- These sketches will be familiar to readers of this Magazine, as they have already appeared in its pages. For a long time "Lillie Montfort's contributions have formed one of its main attractions. For us to recommend this volume to our readers would be a work of the veriest supererogation. Who can have forgotten "Treasures;" "The New Scholar; "The Sweet Name of Jesus; "Will you be the Last?"? Great as are the excellencies of "My Class for Jesus" and "Maude Linden," unquestionably this is "Lillie Montfort's" best work. We can imagine no fitter book for either teacher or scholar, nor one more likely to bind the two together. The intense interest and touching pathos of the "incidents," are only equalled by the affectionate, earnest, Christian spirit in which they are told. City Sparrows, and Who Cared for Them. By RUTH LYNN.-Bird Songs and Bird Pictures. With Natural-History Notes.-Uncle Max, the Soldier of The Cross. By MRS. GEORGE GLADSTONE, Author of "Norwegian Stories." -Helen's Victory. By the Author of "Soldier Fritz." The Religious Tract Society. The Religious Tract Society is doing a great work in publishing so many excellent children's books. We highly recommend all the above. The first is a touching and interesting story, calculated to impress upon young people the blessedness of working for the poor. "Bird Songs and Bird Pictures" is a most attractive little volume. The songs are mostly good selections from wellknown authors. The illustrations are all good, some of them strikingly so, and the notes are interesting and intelligible. "Uncle Max" is a lively and beautiful tale, illustrating very simply and plainly the duty of cross-bearing. The chief charm of "Helen's Victory," is the reality of the characters and incidents. The author has evidently been a girl herself, and knows what the temptations of school-girls really are, and how they may be overcome. Six Penny Coloured Picture - Books. The Sunday Packet-Six Penny Coloured Picture-Books. The Week-day Packet. London: The Religious Tract Society. These very pretty and cheap picture-books will be sure to delight little children. Of course we cannot expect the designs to possess much artistic merit, but the subjects, especially of the Sunday Packet, are well chosen. Teachers of infant-classes will find these books very useful, as they convey lessons of Scripture truth to the little ones in the simplest and, to them, the pleasantest form. "The Bright City" is a good book to put into the hands of a young Christian. It consists of very simple, encouraging, though sometimes rather commonplace reflections on the subject of heaven, with good practical counsel as to the way there. "The Book of Books" is an admirable little work on the Bible. Just the book for an intelligent child. "Springfield Stories" is a nice collection of simple tales. "Little Dot" is a touching and beautiful story for very young children. "Mary Wharton" is a remarkably good narrative, illustrative of trust in God's providence. Little Lisette. The Orphan of Alsace. By the Author of "Louis Michaud," etc. London: Griffith and Farran.-A very interesting and touching little tale of the late war. It is written so beautifully and yet so simply, that any child must be delighted with it; while it cannot fail to interest older people. All the characters are exquisitely drawn, and yet beautifully natural. Royal Diadem for the Sunday-School. By REV. ROBERT LOWRY and W. HOWARD Doane. New York and Chicago: Biglow and Main. London: Sampson Low and Co. - Our readers will welcome this addition to Sunday-school music from the above eminent American publishers. It is uniform with "Pure Gold," "Bright Jewels," "Fresh Laurels," etc. The book abounds in those beautiful refrains which are so characteristic of American sacred songs. The music is sweet and simple, yet not weak. The harmonies are well arranged, and the poetry is good. In the one hundred and fifty pieces which the work contains, a great variety of subjects will be found. THE WESLEYAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAGAZINE. PRACTICAL PAPERS. CHILD-TRAINING. BY THE REV. J. COLWELL. (Concluded from page 31.) THE text does not say, "set a good example," though that is included, but "train," which suggests a great deal more. It does not say, "love your children," though that is also included; but "train," which implies the wise and discreet action of love, rather than love itself. The following are, at any rate, three prominent thoughts involved in the idea of training : 1. Labour.—“In all labour there is profit," and in what labour so much profit as in that of training immortal minds? The more valuable and productive the material on which you labour, the more need there is for the labour, and the more encouragement there is in it. The gardener bestows little attention upon the wild brier that blossoms in his hedge, but he thinks no labour too great to be expended on the choice fruit-tree that grows in his nursery. Is not a child much better than a tree? The coal-miner hews with pick-axe and shovel in the dark earth, and brings forth at last a block of coal. But when he has hewn it, and landed it upon the pit-bank, it needs no farther care. When it is needed for the fire, it is quite ready. When the coal is up, the labour is over; but when gold is up, the severest labour begins. Things demand labour according to their value, and we are far more likely to hear a coal-miner praying for gold, than a gold-digger praying for coal. Is not this illustrative of the work of training children? It takes less trouble to break in a colt, than to train a child; but whether of the two is the more enduring,—a fine horse, or a noble mind? Children are of great importance and high value, therefore great labour must be expended on their training, and they will well repay it. 2. Wisdom, or discretion.-Wisdom, or discretion, must be used at every step, and must cover the whole field of the child's training, VOL. IX. NEW SERIES.-March, 1874. D from beginning to end. which it will need to be Two or three illustrations of the ways in applied, may be given. First, There is need to make a difference between the training given to boys and girls. This may seem a very commonplace remark, and yet we believe it to be a very needful one. Some boys are girlish boys, and some girls are boyish girls, and this unseemly incongruity not infrequently grows into womanish manhood and masculine womanhood. What is more unpleasing and unnatural than such a reversal of nature? H. W. Beecher says, "If a boy is not trained to endure and to bear trouble, he will grow up a girl; and a boy that is a girl, has all a girl's weakness without any of her regal qualities. A woman made out of a woman is God's noblest work; a woman made out of a man is His meanest. A child rightly brought up will be like a willow branch which, broken off and touching the ground, at once takes root. Bring up your children so that they will root easily in their own soil, and not be for ever grafted in your old trunk and boughs." And manly men and womanly women are to be made by a wise adaptation of training. Boys will not always sit still; girls must not often be romping. A different set of qualities has to be developed in each case, and therefore a different process must be adopted. Secondly, We need to mark the distinction in the dispositions and temperaments of children, as well as in the sex, and to train accordingly. In the Union workhouse or in the charity school, children are all dressed precisely alike. You may step in and say, "This is wrong; the plain laws of nature ought to be regarded. If your style of dress is adapted to girls that are pale and thin, it is not adapted to those who are rosy and stout: if your colours suit the dark-eyed, dark-haired maidens, they do not suit the blue-eyed and light-haired girls." But your objection is useless: the manager steps forward, and tells you that they have rules, and those rules must be kept. "How absurd!" you exclaim. But how often do we see this mistake made in the moral and intellectual sphere? A certain standard of intellectual attainment, a certain path to knowledge, a certain mode of manifesting spiritual awakening and moral growth, is marked out by the parent, and into one groove all the family, be they two or twelve, are forced. This mistaken notion has been hardly hit by various writers and speakers, and yet it lingers on. Many a fine intellect has been cramped, many a sensitive nature has been crushed and pounded down into common material, and many a spiritual aspiration that, rightly encouraged, would have led on to true religion, has been smothered by inju |