son in a trance, they would be the most secure instruments for converting apparent into real death, by suffocation.

Eschenbach observes, that there is no well recorded instance of syncope lasting more than one day, whereas here it must have lasted three; and also that even this period would not have been sufficient to restore strength and health to a frame, which had undergone the shattering tortures of crucifixion, and the enfeebling influence of syncope from loss of blood.

Another author calls attention to the fact, that our Lord distinguishes between the wounds in His hands and that of His side, by asking Thomas to measure the former by his finger, and the latter by the insertion of his hand (John xx. 27). It could not have been superficial then, but of the breadth of two or three fingers, perhaps, on the outside and entering the cavity.

Here we have a particular case, then, in which science or the wisdom of this world has been first invoked and applied to the denial of a revealed fact, and afterwards that very same science, working exclusively according to its own principles, has done the work of establishing that revealed fact. Faith is more to us than all the reason displayed in medical jurisprudence; but it is something to know besides, not how the revealed facts have come to pass, but that the gospel promises are not at fault, even science herself being the umpire.

Tyndall has come and gone. He lectured on "Light" to large audiences, who were delighted. He talked about and played with the element like some little god, who will some day undertake to build a young and perhaps improved world.

When he left his last, and took to writing on "Prayer," however, like St. Paul, the light blinded him, and he became silly and witless. "In all pursuits, I think it better to be wholly ignorant and unskilled, than half-learned and half-expert" (Fronto). Philosophy, too, when partially sipped, renders men malicious, and would better remain untasted. And yet, when our scientists will have done with their problems of pure nature, there will arise from among their own kinsmen, one who will set before an admiring world such a picture as Homer has painted on his hero's shieldthings and movements heavenly, hemmed round and embellished by things and pursuits all earthly.

NOTE. I know the virtue of "inverted commas; " but have not used them throughout this paper as freely as they are called for. I might have given the whole as a selection, had I not deformed and broken it by my own insertions. I claim to have only retailed great and good men's thoughts-yea, even their very words -as well as some bad men's sayings.

THE TRUE FRIENDS OF THE PASTOR.

BY THE EDITOR.

On a certain day our Saviour came to the temple at Jerusalem. In the court or open space around the House of God, He found money changers, that is, such people as we now call "shavers," and those who sold doves for sacrifice, and traded in various ways. Just such people as we find now, who try to use pastors and their congregations as tools whereby to get gain. Our Saviour overthrew their tables of traffic, and drove them away from the house of prayer. Then the blind and the lame came groping and limping after Him in the temple; and He healed them. The chief priests and scribes looked on with heartless and bitter envy. That these healings were a wonder to behold no one could deny. Who but a great prophet of God could do such works? This all felt, even these envious, staring Jews. But they would not say so, would not speak a word in His praise. Not they.

Then, as now, many good people took their children with them to the Lord's house. Small children, from the babe of eight days to the boy of twelve years of age, were taken thither. The babes were borne there to be brought into the Covenant; the older ones to learn lessons in the Law and in worshiping God.

In the Law taught them by their parents, scribes and priests, they learned many things about the Messiah, or the Son of David, who was to come. Like good children now, they believed the Scripture lessons taught them, and tried to remember them. A great crowd of people had just led our Saviour across the Mount of Olives unto the city. They spread their cloaks or blankets in the way, for Him to ride over, and sang:

"Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed s He that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest."

When they brought our Saviour into Jerusalem, there was a great stir in the city. Even the little children caught the song of triumph, and with their sweet ringing voices sang: "Hosanna to the Son of David."

With this the Jews became displeased as well as with the healing of the sick. What can children know about the Son of David? The babbling boys even cry after the Great Prophet on the street. So little regard have the people for Him. In this spirit the Jews say: "Hearest Thou what these say?" Then Jesus quotes from Psalm 8: 2, which they hold to be part of their Scriptures:

"And Jesus saith unto them: Yea; have ye never read, Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise?"

66

Or as the 8th Psalm has it: "Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast Thou ordained strength, because of Thine enemies." Many think that children are of little use in the world. And of least use in overcoming the enemies of God, and in praising His excellent name." Great is the power of consecrated childhood. The babe in the cradle softens and moulds the hearts of many a stern, wayward father. The little artless prayer of his child teaches him the power and blessed use of devout worship. The Sunday-school Army of America, wherein the children of the Nation are trained to habits of prayer and devotion to God, does more to conquer the kingdom of darkness than the mightest standing armies can do.

There are times when the burdens of life press heavily upon one's heart. Some great sorrow casts its dark shadows over your spirit. Your work seems fruitless. Your hopes are disappointed. Foes hate, and friends forsake and disown you. Not a ray of sunlight in life's dreary waste can you discern. In desponding mood you pass along the street. The sweet voice of a child hails you. Then the little cherub calls you by name, reaches out its tiny hand, and its rosy lips for a kiss. With that you lose sight of your dark vision. The child has opened a chink, through which to let a ray of God's Fatherly love shine into your heart.

A certain mother tells her pastor: "Our little Jennie prays for you every evening. She prays,-Dear Saviour bless Papa and Mamma, Georgie and Alice, and our Pastor. Amen. And then she sweetly falls asleep, while God's guardian angels hover around her couch." Little does the mother know how much the pastor feels comforted and strengthened by the prayer of the child.

A religious exchange of New York, gives the following, which is confirmed by the experience of many a pastor:

The pastor of one of our city churches, returning home at the close of a stormy day, with a sad heart, from a visit to what was supposed to be the dying bed of an esteemed and beloved elder in the Church, found a letter awaiting him signed with the names of six children belonging to the family of another elder, congratulating him on the return of his birthday, and enclosing a handsome present as the children's gift to their pastor. The letter bore the signatures of every one of the dear children, even down to the baby, whose name was scrawled at the bottom of the page, evidently with her own fingers, though guided by an older hand. The pastor's sad heart was cheered by such a sweet token of remembrance from these lambs of his flock, three of whom he had baptized, and the eldest of whom he had welcomed to the Lord's table in early

youth; and the next day the children received the following lines

in reply to their kind letter:

From the sick and the dying,

The sad and the poor,
The pastor came wearily
Back to his door.
The shadows of evening

Had gathered around,
And rain-drops were falling
With sorrowful sound;
And heavy and sad

Was the minister's heart
As he thought of a brother,
From whom he must part.

It seemed as if heaven
Had opened its gate
For one and another
So quickly of late;
Soon few would still linger
To cheer his sad way,
And lighten his darkness

With love's shining ray.
With such sorrowful thoughts,
He entered his door,
To be met by a message
Which came just before;
'Twas a simple envelop
Bearing his name,
But nothing to show him
From whose hand it came.

Did it tell of new sorrow,
And a call to new griet?

Did poverty send it,
To beg for relief?
He opened it slowly,
Yet fearing to find
Some message of trouble

To burden his mind;
But no tale of sorrow,
No story of woe,

Had come in that letter

Through rain and through snow; 'Twas a message of gladness

That came to his heart,

To drive away sadness

And joy to impart.

How deeply it touched him,

These words cannot tell,
But tears from his eyelids

So gratefully fell.
Many kind missives

Had come to his door,
But none were more welcome
That e'er came before.
It came from dear children,
From Maggie and Willie,
From Sam and sweet Lillie,
From sweet baby Mary,

And brave little Ben,
The best and the dearest

Small women and men!
It spoke of affection

In innocent youth,
All glowing with freshness,
All fragrant with truth.

Though simple the message,
'Twas eloquent still,
And will ne'er be forgotten
In good or in ill!

Sweet thanks, my dear children,
From the Dominie's heart,
Where in a warm corner

You all have your part.
May blessings still hover

All over your path,
And no storm of sorrow

E'er come in its wrath.

May father be spared

Still upright and true,
And all mother's graces
Descend upon you;
May auntie's fond care
Watch over you yet;
And brother and sister
To love ne'er forget.

So with God's sweetest smile
And the dear Saviour's love,
With a jubilant hope

Of a blest home above

To you, my dear children,

Be it graciously given

To be those of whom
Is the kingdom of heaven!

-I have always been struck at the ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness. Being only used to live for the present, they make a gain of every pleasure as soon as it offers itself. But the surfeited rich are more difficult to satisfy: they require time and everything to suit before they will consent to be happy.

From the French of Emile Souvestre.

SACRED SONNETS.

BY REV. M. SHEELEIGH.

I.

PALM SUNDAY.

The life of self-denial's nearly o'er,

Complete almost the term of labors vast;
In triumph meek the God-man rides at last
Towards Jerusalem; the throngs outpour-
As following and passing on before-

Their praises; and multitudes their garments cas
Upon the road where He is moving past,
And with palm-branches strew the highway floor.
What token of rejoicing shall we bring,

To hail the passing of our Lord to-day,
To welcome now our glorious Saviour-King.
As going forth in triumph on His way?
Our songs and selves shall be our offering-
Undying pledge to honor and obey.

II.
GOOD-FRIDAY.

Oh, wonder of all wonders that the earth

Has ever witnessed! God's beloved Son
Suspended like a criminal upon
The dreadful tree, that, through His lowly birth
And shedding of His blood of priceless worth,

Our souls should be from ruin bought and won:
That in His death should be our life begun,
And stayed for wretched man the woful dearth
Of spirit-peace and hope and happiness!

Oh, may the direful spectacle we see,
At which creation throbbed in deep distress-
The dying of the God-man-ever be
A potent means our nature to impress,

And bow us at the cross of Calvary!

III.
EASTER.

Lift up your heads!-let holy joy abound;

Dispel each doubt" the Lord is ris'n indeed;"
He who but late upon the cross did bleed,

Amid the darkened sky and quaking ground,

Has conquered death, though soldier guards around
To their appointment gave the strictest heed;
And now prediction and fulfillment read
The same, and hope for ruined man is found:
Lift up your heads!-redemption's work is sealed;
Here's proof the utmost that the Crucified
Is truly God's own Son; and here's revealed,

Beyond a doubt, the pow'r, in Him who died
And rose again, by which our woe is healed,

And all the bliss of endless life supplied.

Whitemarsh, Pa.