They say, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."-Yet they do not aim at that holiness of heart and practice which they know to be the will of God.

They say, "Give us this day our daily bread." -Yet they are not contented with their daily bread when they obtain it, and have no desire for the feeding of their souls with the bread of life, Christ Jesus, who came down from heaven.

They say, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."-Yet, alas! if God should take them at their word, they would be undone; for how often are their hearts full of malice and revenge against those who have injured them?

They say, "Lead us not into temptation."-Yet they run willingly into it, and are often employed in seeking out temptations to gratify their sinful desires.

They say, "Deliver us from evil."-Yet they throw themselves into evil company, go into evil places, make use of evil words, and by the general manner of their lives and conversations, shew that they are the followers of the evil one.

Reader! have you been guilty of such vain repetitions, of such useless saying of prayers as this? If this be the manner in which you pray, wonder not, if you receive nothing. Strive then to obtain a deep sense of the majesty of God, and of His mercy. Seek the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to enable you to pray with the heart, as well as with the lips; look constantly, in every thing you ask, to the Great Intercessor, through whom alone your prayers will be accepted.

"O Lord! instruct me how to pray,
Incline my nature to obey:

What Thou abhorrest, let me flee,

And only love what pleases Thee."

From the Poor Churchman's Evening Companion.

GOD DOES NOT PERMIT THE SINS AND WANDERINGS EVEN OF HIS FAITHFUL PEOPLE TO GO UNCHASTISED.

THE hand that quits the vengeful sword

Still holds the chastening rod,

And still reminds the erring child

His Father is his God.

Not far from the small town of D-, in the south of England, there is a high point of land, whose summit commands a fine view of the magnificent ocean. This spot was my favourite morning walk, during the few years that I had the charge of a small parish in the neighbourhood: there I delighted to watch the glories of the rising sun, to listen to the soaring lark as she pursued "her heavenly employment," and to hold communion with my Creator through the medium of His works. My solitary ram. ble was seldom interrupted; but one morning I felt considerable interest at the sight of a neat modest young woman who was intently gazing on the ocean from the summit of the hill. I looked out upon the wide expanse of waters, and I saw at a

great distance the white sails of a vessel just visible; in a few minutes it appeared but a speck upon the waves-and presently it disappeared:-"Oh ! he is gone, and perhaps for ever!" exclaimed the young female as she turned hastily from the spot; the unexpected appearance of a stranger overwhelmed her with confusion; I instantly retired, unwilling to intrude upon the grief which her pale cheek and tearful eye rendered but too distinctly visible. As I descended the hill in an opposite direction, I met one of the boys who attended the parish school. I asked him if he could tell me who that young woman was who had just been on the hill. "Oh! I dare say it's Ally Green, please your honour; Will Carey's ship was to pass by this morning; and she's been on the look-out." "I never recollect seeing her at Church," said I, in an inquiring tone. "No;" said the boy, "it's many a day since she's been there :" and then he told me that her mother required her whole attention, and that she could scarcely ever leave her. Upon asking where she lived, the boy pointed to a thatched cottage, upon the skirts of the wood at the bottom of the hill; and I returned home determined to visit the cottage in a few days. The following Sunday evening I walked towards the wood; as I approached the thatched cottage I heard the sound of a female voice, and on coming nearer I perceived Alice sitting by the bed-side of her mother, reading to her from the Bible. A few minutes' conversation served to convince me, that in the midst of much mental and bodily suffering, the inhabitants of this humble dwelling, enjoyed that "peace of God which passeth all understanding."

In the course of frequent visits, I learnt that Mrs. Green had been many years a widow, and that Alice was her only child. Grief for the loss of her husband had preyed upon her health, for, when

he died, she was a stranger to the comforts of Religion.

Alice was sent to a Sunday school, where she learnt to read the Scriptures:-she was also taught to pray to God to make her a good child; and to enable her to be a comfort to her mother; her prayers were heard, and answered, and she grew up every thing that her parent could wish. Alice often grieved that her mother was not more resigned to the will of God; and she would sometimes read to her those passages of holy writ, which described this life as a state of trial, and which shewed that sufferings were often sent for the most merciful of purposes. The patient endeavours, and fervent prayers of this dutiful child met with their full reward; for two or three years before I knew them Mrs. Green's temper of mind became changed, and instead of the fretful repinings of discontent, "the voice of joy and praise was heard in her dwelling."

Alice's dutiful and unremitting attentions to her mother had attracted the notice of William Carey, a young sailor, who was going to the Mediterranean for three years, but hoped on his return to be able to settle in his native village. William and Alice had known each other from infancy; and in consenting to become his wife, Alice knew that she had trusted her earthly happiness with one, whose religious principles would be the guide of his conduct, and the earnest of her future comfort. "But Carey is a good young man, Sir," said the mother to me one day, when she was talking of her daughter's prospects; "and let what will come of it, I hope we shall all meet in a better world!" I saw that maternal tenderness was dwelling on the dangers of the deep, and I endeavoured to raise ber spirits, and I left her more cheerful.

Shortly after this conversation, I left the neighbourhood of D, and eighteen years passed away

without my hearing any thing of this family. At the end of this period I visited the south of England, and one of my first walks was to the thatched cottage. As I hastily pursued my way, fancy was busy in picturing scenes of domestic happiness, and I thought of Alice in the character of a wife and mother, fulfilling the duties of her station, as a Christian only can fulfil them. But "the ways of God are not as our ways, nor are His thoughts as our thoughts;" very different was the scene I witnessed when I once more crossed the threshold of the cottage.

The arm-chair, where Mrs. Green used to sit, was vacant;-her bed was removed, and I concluded that 'she was no more. Alice was in deep mourning, instructing about a dozen little girls in needle-work; her pale cheeks were for a moment flushed with surprise at the sight of me she soon, however, recovered her composure, and, dismissing her little flock, she begged me to be seated. I scarcely knew how to ask after those who were so dear to her when I left D. With much emotion Alice told me of the death of her mother, and of the heavy trial which followed; for, a few weeks afterwards, she learnt that William Carey had died in an engagement with the Algerines. Well knowing the anxious state of her daughter's mind, Mrs. Green had entreated her on her death-bed to instruct a few of the neighbours' children. "Who knows, Ally, what good you may do?" said her mother, only think what a blessing your reading your Bible has been to me." In being useful to others Alice told me she found the only happiness she could hope for in this world; and, feeling the hourly support of religious principles herself, she delighted in being able to assist in conveying them to others. Sad experience had taught Alice

་

that

"Happiness is not the growth of earth;"