children came to meet them. Soon they were all comfortably and happily together in their own cheerful home.

The son carefully retained the scenes of the day in his heart. He often thought of the lake, and endeavored to make his life, amid many storms from without and struggles within, a continual victory, until it reached at last an eternal triumph of peace in the quiet heavens above, which no storms ever reach.

SIGHINGS AND SEEKINGS.

BY THE EDITOR.

WE are all by nature lost! Lost in the dreary wilderness of this world which lies outside of Paradise. Eden, with all its joy, peace, and innocence, was lost by the sin of our first parents. They were driven out from its happy scenes into the cheerless regions of thorns and thistles, and became the sad inheritors of a world lying under the curse of a righteous God. There, in a fallen world, themselves fallen and guilty sinners, they "begat sons and daughters," and we are their sinstricken posterity.

When we look around us we see at once that we are in the land of the curse. All around us is blighted, has lost its original life and beauty, and passes away while we gaze. The generations before us are lying in tombs around us. Our fathers are gone. We are going. As blooming summer gives place to gloomy autumn, so our youth and beauty are silently but certainly changing into bleak and wintry old age. Death is in the world. "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Is it not written upon the heavens and upon the earth, upon the features of our bodies and upon the hopes of our hearts that "we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the winds, do bear us away." Not only does the present life, with all its joys and hopes, fail us, but it is unsatisfying while it lasts.

The whole crea

We need comfort. We feel that we need comfort. tion groans and travails in pain until now, asking, while one hope and help after another dies, "Who shall show us any good?"

Even the heathen, who had nothing but a sense of their own inward wants to guide them, when their hearts were in an earnest frame, always sighed after a thing better than earth could give. They have always manifested a deep and mysterious longing, a kind of lonely home-sickness after some substantial good. Though they did not understand the deep wants of their hearts, they felt them. Experience and observation taught them to some extent the truth so beautifully expressed by the poet of the lonely vein

"He builds too low who builds beneath the stars."

As a sea-shell is said to moan, in mysterious voices after the ocean-home

from which it has been torn, so the spirit of man, in deep instinctive earnestness, moans after the home of his heart-the home from which he is torn by sin. Though he may not know where that home is to be found, yet in hope that there may be a guide within hearing, he cries in plaintive tones, Lost! lost! lost! Man even in pagan darkness cannot fail to see the heavens above are brighter and more serene than the restless and changing earth around; and it is but natural that they should direct their cries heavenward. No wonder, then, that "the whole creation groaneth," and that a sigh arises from the broad bosom of humanity, "Oh that thou wouldst rend the heavens and come down!"

This same sense of want, which has in all ages manifested itself in the heathen world, if not so heavy and cheerless, is nevertheless more intelligently and more keenly felt in christian lands. All unconverted persons, in their sober and reflective hours, feel this deep want in their souls -an aching, painful void, which they feel that the world can never fill. They see who that reflects can fail to see ?-that all beneath and around them is passing away. Wealth, earthly honor, pleasure, friends, themselves, yea, all cometh forth like a flower and is cut down, fleeth like a shadow and continueth not! Every one who thinks earnestly on himself, his origin, his present position, and his destiny, must feel as though he stood lonely in the midst of earth's autumnal days, where hopes like leaves are falling around him. This sad scene troubles the spirit, and makes it sigh after something that lives and abides as a source of hope and comfort. There are few hearts that have not at times felt like using the language of the Psalmist as their own: "I mourn in my complaint, and make a noise. My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fearfulness and trembling are. come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me. And, I said, oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest." Ps. 55: 2–9. Comfort, then, is what the heart needs and cries after when it feels its wants.

Where shall true comfort be found? This is the question of all, at one time or other in life. The heart may hover, like a dove, over all the plain of earth-it may fly as far as the wings of a dove could bear it, even into the wilderness, and yet not be at rest. The source of human woes is in the human heart, a heart alienated by God, the true source of joy and peace; and wherever the heart goes it bears its wants and woes with it. No outward scenes can bring it true, lasting peace. The leprosy, which consumes our rest, lies deep within. The lonely desert, the wide and tranquil sea, the rich gardens of the south, the calm twilight of evening, the serene repose of nature, the bright and peaceful heavens, all these lovely scenes in nature can bring no comfort and tranquility to the sinner's leprous heart. Their very quietude and loveliness do but reveal to him more painfully the tumultuous heavings of his restless heart.

"The world can never give

The bliss for which we sigh."

True comfort is not a plant of natural, early growth. As the natural light which fills the earth with joy, comes from above, so the light which can disperse the gloom of the soul comes from heaven. It has come ! God, in Christ, has opened a fountain of life, light, and endless joy.

A GOOD NAME.

BY THE EDITOR.

"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches."

WHAT mistakes we all make! We try to make things right which we should have prevented from being made wrong. When one of our fellows has disgraced himself, we go to him, perhaps reproachfully, and say to him: "I knew your course would bring you to this!" Why did we not go to him before and say to him, gently, kindly, earnestly-"a gulf is before you! see how you tread !"

How true it is that a little preventive is better than a great deal of cure. This applies especially to our subject. It is much easier to keep a good name when we have it, than to get it back when it is lost.

We hope to make ourselves useful—especially to the young-by a few observations on a good name. "A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches."

The word name here is not to be taken in its literal meaning. It does not mean the name by which we are known.

It has been the case that these two have been identical. When names were prophetically given, by divine direction and inspiration, the literal name was the correct exponent of the character. Thus we have many instances in scripture, where the name given to the infant, correctly designated, through life, the prominent and prevailing characteristic of the man.

Names are still given to their children by serious persons with a sincere desire that they may prove prophetic-that their character may correspond with the meaning of the name; or, that the child may grow up to become like the person after whom it is named.

There is, however, generally no manner of connection between a person's name and his character-it is a mere arbitrary sign. Yet there is prevalent a deep, steady feeling, that the two should be identical-that a man's name and his character ought to correspond. Hence, in part at least, the origin of what are called nick-names-in which case his true name passes out of sight in favor of one which is a true exponent of the person's character. The word nick meaning originally an evil spirit; a nick-name exhibits some evil characteristic which manifests itself in his life so that this name becomes, in a remarkable manner, the true and faithfull representative of the person's real character.

The feeling that names and characters ought to correspond manifests itself in another way. We feel that certain names are agreeable and others disagreeable to us-and when we enquire into the reason, we find that our like or dislike results from the fact that these names belonged to some character of our acquaintance, from whom they have received their savor. This shows how closely allied, in our feelings, are name

and character.

It is not the name that honors the character, but it is the character that honors his name. As our character is, so is the name. Our name becomes the mark of glory, or of shame, according as we honor or dishonor it. Our name is a mere skeleton-it is our character which clothes it with flesh-and life-and beauty-and power. The letters of the alphabet can be so used as to make a book of wisdom or nonsense, according as they are used. The combination of letters in our own names, will inspire reverence or contempt, according as our own lives give them meaning.

A good name, then, in this sense is everything. It is that by which we are known, remembered, and thought of. It is our strength and crown of glory. It is that which brings us all our respect and influence -which makes whatever else we have valuable to us-which gives sense and substance to our lives-determines our importance, shapes our destiny, and is the only part of us which remains as a power in the world when we are gone!

This a good name-Solomon praises, and recommends. He tells us, first, how good it is; and, second, how it is to be obtained.

I. HOW GOOD IT IS. It is better than "great riches." He does not contrast it with riches because this is really the next highest good, but because it is generally regarded as the very highest.

The love of wealth does not only influence men more generally but also more mightily than any other human passion. Nothing else so constantly enchains the heart. Nothing so successfully commands men's energies. Not for learning, not for pleasure, not for heaven, will men endure such toils and make such sacrifices.

No class of men are in such danger of forgetting all higher interests. Nothing so absorbs thoughts, feelings, desires, energies. No other passion so fully displaces God-covetousness "is idolatry." Of no other sin is it said: "How hardly shall they enter into the kingdom of God!" Of no other sin is it said that it is "the root of all evil!" It is, therefore, much to say of a good name, it is rather to be chosen than riches— than great riches. Oh, it is much, when one is able to value readily a good name above riches.

He contrasts a good name with riches, and says it is better, because in the majority of cases good names are lost through love of riches. Nothing, perhaps makes a man more mean than a miserly spirit. He may be rich; but show me a miserly man who is respected. He loses his good name through his little meannesses, which result from his love of money. What robs a man more effectually of a good name than dishonesty; and what makes a man so but the love of money? How are men, occupying high and honorable stations, hurled in a moment into the deepest disgrace by a breach of public trust-by frauds— frauds on the government-frauds upon companies-frauds upon the public. Their very names become a hissing and contemptible by-word from one end of the land to the other-ruined for life; and if their graves are ever known in their own country, they will only be known as blots of shame, as long as it is known what lies beneath.

The same may be said of oppressors-extortioners thieves. But even in milder forms does the desire for riches interfere with a good

name.

How many, for instance, suffer themselves to become so absorbed

in business, as to neglect almost entirely the cultivation of their minds, hearts, and manners. In this way the pursuit of gain sets aside and leaves behind all that which properly constitutes character, or a good

name.

What is it that makes thousands ignorant, uncultivated, boorish— what is it but that low love of gain which leaves neither time nor taste for anything higher!

He places a good name above riches because there is so strong a disposition to regard riches as a sufficient substitute for a good name. Alas, how common is this vain fancy! How many seem to suppose that if they can only get into the class of the rich they shall be at once and forever respectable. They may be flattered-and they may be treated with consideration; but it is always, not on their own account, but on account of their money. Money is not character-the mere fact of my becoming suddenly or gradually rich, does not put one more idea into my head, one more excellence into my heart, or give one iota of increase in polish and moral worth.

A good name is to be valued above riches. 1. Because it is the ground of real respect-respect resting upon personal worth, and not upon a mere outward appendage. 2. Because it gives him real moral influence. Wealth may give a worldly influence, but not a moral one. 3. Because the fruits of a good name are perpetuated after the individual is dead, as a blessing, not as a curse. What dire effects often flow from wealth

entailed! It is not so with a good name.

Oh, we do not feel as we ought, the importance of leaving the legacy of a good name to those who come after us!

II. How a good name is to be obtained. A good name is “to be chosen" it is to be desired, coveted, aimed at, determined upon. It depends upon choice he that wills it, wins it. A good name cannot be bought. No amount of money can convince the public that a man's character is good, when it is not. His very attempt to cover his faults, and to blind men's eyes by the glare of his gold increases the public contempt. Let it but once be known that wealth has elevated a man to some post of honor-or that wealth has sheltered him from justice-and his name is branded with infamy forever. A man may buy office, he may buy judges, he may even buy the shouts of a multitude to give eclat to an occasion, he may buy for himself a towering monument to stand on his grave, but he cannot buy a good name.

Even "great riches" cannot buy a good name, or hide the blots of a bad character. Let us give an example-Stephen Girard. Let but any one speak of his charities, and his attention will immediately be directed to the following facts from a Philadelphia paper

"GIRARD.-A cotemporary calls public attention to the propriety of having the body of Mrs. Girard interred in the college grounds with those of her husband, remarking, that the remains of Mrs. Franklin were consigned to the same tomb in which rested those of Dr. Franklin, and observing also that the sage councils of the wife may have contributed to the fortune of the founder of the "College for Orphans." The allusion to Mrs. Girard is every way unfortunate, and can meet with no responsive sympathy from those who admire the social character of her spouse, to whose jealous temper she fell a memorable victim, in the heyday of