But she hath served as a guiding star, In dream once more she has bless'd my And I awoke and wept." A high reward have her efforts won, Pray, Mothers, pray; for a holy power Or guard from the tempter's snare. They can never be erased. A word, a look, at some fitting time, And lead your babes from the path of When you'neath your tombstones sleep. March, 1852. ELIZA KNEELAND. The Children's Gallery. THANKFUL LITTLE GIRLS. In the summer of 1832 I spent a few events which had happened there in generations past, and then thought of the present apparent condition of the larger portion of its inhabitants, busied about this world, but caring little for that which is to come, I seemed to feel somewhat as Jesus felt, when from Mount Olivet he beheld Jerusalem, and wept over it. While thus musing, a little girl came up, whose approach I had not observed till she came very near me. I gave her a small book or printed hymn, and began at once to talk with her. She was ten years old. I found that she knew as much as most children of her age, on common subjects, but she had very little acquaintance with Scripture truths; she had never been to a Sunday-school. Presently she was joined by two of her schoolfellows about the same age, and one who appeared to be two or three years younger. On my arrival at Canterbury, my friend was from home; and after rest- These four little girls stood around ing awhile, I chose to walk out until me, while I sat and conversed with his return, that I might take a view of them, for about half an hour, about the suburbs of this ancient city. In their souls and their Saviour, about an extensive enclosure, called Dane heaven and hell, about time and eterJohn Grove, there is a steep hill, having nity. They listened with the deepest a walk around it, leading, in the form attention,-for it seemed to be almost of a cork-screw, to the top, and com- all new to them,-while I told them manding a fine view of the city and that they were God's creatures, that the surrounding country. Up this hill they belonged to him, that he loved I went, and sat down on one of the them and cared for them; while I reseats placed there for the accommoda-minded them that they were not to live tion of visitors. Here, as I sat alone here always, but were to live for ever for some time, and gazed on the popu- in another world; while I explained lous city, and remembered some of the to them how the Lord Jesus came down from heaven, and died to save sinners; and while I assured them that if they believed in him, and loved and served him here below, he would be their Saviour, and would take them to heaven when they die. I gave to each of them a tract or book, and then left them, expressing my hope of meeting them in that holy, happy place, and not expect ing to see them again on earth. I walked down the hill, quite out of their sight, and finding my time was not yet expired, I again took a seat in the grove, at a little distance, and was reading. I had been so occupied only a few minutes, when I was agreeably surprised to see the four little girls, who had walked down on the opposite side of the hill, coming towards me. The one of them to whom I had first spoken, as soon as she saw me, turned to her schoolfellows, and said something; then, followed by them, she came up to me, and, making a curtsey, said, with a modesty and seriousness of manner that I shall never forget, "I am very much obliged to you, sir, for what you said to us just now." Then, looking towards her companions, two of them thanked me in the same manner, and the other little one looked as if she wished to do so too, but had not sufficient courage. Dear Children! their gratitude, so unexpectedly and promptly manifested, almost overcame me; and I cannot express the affection I felt towards them as I took them by the hand, one by one, and gave them such further serious advice as my time would permit. I left them with reluctance, promising, when I should be far away from them, to remember them in my prayers. Often have I prayed for them since; and although more than twenty years have passed away, and they, if living, are no longer children, I still sometimes call to mind my promise, and offer up a humble prayer to God on their behalf. It is not likely that I shall see either of them any more on earth, but I do feel increasingly hopeful that the Father of mercies will continue to watch over them, and will preserve them unto his heavenly kingdom, and that we shall have a happy meeting there, to part no more. I have known some children, who, when spoken to upon religious subjects by those who have longed to do them good, have turned away with indifference, or have rudely laughed at what has been said. Such children should I remember that they are not only acting a very ungrateful part towards their best friends, but they are also mocking that heavenly Father whom, above all, they ought to love and reverence. They are trifling with that Almighty God who is able, when he has killed the body, to cast both body and soul into hell. My dear young readers! do you feel thankful for the kind instruction or admonition given you by your pious friends or teachers? Remember, then, the thankful little girls, and "go and do likewise." J. B. Essex, Feb. 8, 1853. TABLE RULES FOR LITTLE THE following lines were written for RULES FOR MY MEALS. In silence I must take my seat, And give God thanks before I eat; Must for my food in patience wait, Till I am ask'd to hand my plate; I must not scold, nor whine, nor pout, Nor move my chair or plate about; With knife, or fork, or napkin ring, I must not play; nor must I sing; I must not speak a useless word, For children must be seen-not heard; I must not talk about my food, Nor fret if I don't think it good; I must not say, "The bread is old," "The tea is hot," "The coffee's cold;" I must not cry for this or that, Nor murmur if my meat is fat; My mouth with food I must not crowd, Nor, while I'm eating, speak aloud; Must turn my head to cough or sneeze, And, when I ask, say, "If you please;" The table-cloth I must not spoil, Nor with my food my fingers soil; Must keep my seat when I have done, When told to rise, then I must put Nor round the table sport or run; My chair away, with noiseless foot; And lift my heart to God above, In praise for all his wondrous love. The Cabinet. GIVING. By James Smith, Cheltenham. THE very title of this piece will be enough for some. 66 "There is no end to giving," they will say; we are tired of applications: write on some other subject." No; this is our subject—this is our present theme. But before entering upon it, let us ask the complainer, Are you tired of receiving? Is it true, or is it not, that the Lord's mercies are 66 new every morning"? Does he daily load you with his benefits? Have you received one favour too many? Can you wish that the Lord should get tired of giving? Suppose he should say, "I have given him health so long, money so often, innumerable comforts for so many years, I am tired of giving, I will give him no more ;" and suppose an angel was despatched from his throne to tell you this, how would you feel? Yet it would only be acting on your own principle, and manifesting the same spirit as you manifest. But you are not tired of giving. Oh, no; you intend to give more, to continue giving. Very well; then let us pen a few thoughts on the subject they cannot hurt you, they may do you good. Who enables you to give? What have you that you have not received? The God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways, he gave you wealth, or talent, or opportunity to get. You have not one farthing for which you are not indebted to him. He gave, and he must continue to give; or your brooks will soon dry up. He must preserve for you what he gives, or you will soon lose it. There are ways and means enough to deprive you of all you have, and they will be successful, unless he prevents you with the blessings of his goodness. Who commands you to give? Thy Creator, who gave thee thy being. Thy Redeemer, who gave his life for thy ransom. Thy Comforter, who gave thee life when dead in sin, and comfort when dejected and cast down. Thy God, who gave thee life, and breath, and all things. He who holds you responsible for all he has given; who, when he gave, wrote on his gifts, “Use them, for my glory. Enjoy them, as one that is accountable for them. Improve them, for I intend to come and take account of my servants, to see how much every one has gained by trading on my account." Who notices your gifts? Your Father, to whom you have daily to pray. Your Judge, before whose judgment-seat you must by-and-bye stand. He sends the applicant to your door. He notices with what feelings you read or hear the application. He observes the motives from which and the rules by which you give. He who had his eye on the poor widow casting her two mites into the treasury of the Temple, has his eye on your heart, your property, and your gifts. His eyes are as a flame of fire, and no wonder if they flash with displeasure when some professors give to his poor or his cause. Who set the example of giving? He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all. He who gives "grace and glory," and pledges his word that "no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." He, "who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be rich.". "Be ye, therefore, merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful." Imitate Him, who not only gave to all applicants, but "who went about doing good." Believe him, for he spoke from experience when he said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive." Your example is perfect,-copy it as near as you can; and if you meet sometimes with ingratitude, if sometimes you are deceived, remember he "causeth his sun to shine on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.” “As we have, therefore, opportunity, let us do good unto all men, specially unto them that are of the household of faith." The Lord approves of our giving; this ought to be sufficient. He wishes all his children to be liberal, like himself. He would have them all trained up "to give to him that needeth.” He hates covetousness; he despises the niggardly; he abhors selfishness. Covetousness is ranked with idolatry in his own word, and the "lovers of their own selves" are placed among the apostates of the last days. Two whole chapters (2 Cor. viii. and ix.) are taken up in urging the duty of liberality, in prompting the Lord's people to give; while no other duty in the whole code of Christian morals has such attention paid to it by the inspiring Spirit. The Lord well knew the natural covetousness of the human heart; he well knew the excuses men would frame, and how they would attempt to put this duty from them; and therefore the prominence he gives it, and the arguments by which he enforces it. The Lord has promised to reward giving. "The liberal soul shall be made fat." "Give, and it shall be given unto you." "He that receiveth a prophet, in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet's reward; and he that receiveth a righteous man, in the name of a righteous man, sha!! receive a righteous man's reward. And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward." See also, Matt. xxv. 34, 40. Occasionally, like Moses, we may have "respect unto the recompense of the reward,” but generally it should not be so; the love of Jesus should constrain us, zeal for his glory should urge us, and a sense of our accountability should impel us. But, alas! too many forget, if they really believe, that they are accountable for all they get, and how they get it; for all they spend, and how they spend it; for all they give, and to what end they give it; for all they keep, and why they keep it. The doctrine of giving, as laid down in the New Testament, as practised by the primitive Church, is certainly not understood or admired in our day as it should be. What should we think of a people praying a minister of Christ, with much entreaty, to receive a gift, in order to dispense the same for the comfort of the Lord's poor, or the furtherance of the Lord's cause, as we read that the believers at Macedonia did? 2 Cor. viii. 1, 5. It is because we sow sparingly, that we reap sparingly. It is because some give so little, that they have so little enjoyment of what they keep. The Lord not only blesses what we give, when we give from a good motive, and in proportion to our means; but he blesses what we keep, and "the blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it." The Lord has published to the world that he considers himself the liberal man's debtor: "He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again." But how few appear satisfied with the security! How few, at least, act as if they were! Everything is to us just what God makes it; if, therefore, we keep when we ought to give, we shall find that "he that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver, nor he that loveth gold with increase.” Oh, that the professors of the present day did but believe the inspired statement, They that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is the root of all evil, which, while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows," 1 Tim. vi. 9, 10; and that of our adorable Saviour, "Take heed, and beware of covetousness; for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Reader! are you liberal? Do you give up to your means? Look around you: there are many of God's creatures need help; have you the means, have the heart to help them? There are many you |