"That she does, sir; she's a very good girl, I cannot deny but you know, sir, I've heard or read somewhere that : 'Old age and youth cannot live together; Well, but, my friend, granted that the poet's words are true-which, in my heart, I deny-you are not an old man; your broken health makes you feeble, and not the number of years you have seen. How old may you be?" "Fifty-nine, sir, come Lady-day." "You are only one year older than Jim Edmonds; and how well he and your children got on together for so many years." "Ah, but, sir, they grew year by year together." “Then, you see, it was not age that had anything to do with their happiness; but the fact that they lived together, and knew each other's ways. And so it will be with you and Nelly, by-and-by; she will have found out all your little fancies, in the course of time, and then you will be happy also, as you see how she tries to please you." 66 Well, I hope so, sir." After a little more conversation, Mr. Elstone rose to leave, saying, as soon as Ted had finished that book he should be happy to lend him another, and inquiring of him what church he went to. Ted coloured, and stammered out that he did not go to any at all; and that sometimes he did not cross the threshold of the street door from week's end to week's end. Mr. Elstone said, very gravely, but kindly, as he heard Ted's excuse, "The best cure for dulness, Mr. Carroll, is living out of self, not to one's self; and the best step to happiness is rendering the Lord his due, and honouring his sabbaths. I do hope you will try my advice before I see you again; and that you will be able to tell me you are the better for it; for the old lines are true- 'A sabbath well spent Brings a week of content.'' Then, shaking Ted's hand and nodding to Nelly, Mr. Elstone withdrew, tolerably satisfied with the result of his visit. Ted was also very much pleased with Mr. Elstone's call. He was not a bit offended with his parting question and remarks, but looked upon it as a sort of compliance with his duty as a parson, and would have been rather more likely to find fault with him if he had not mentioned the church, or the Bible, or something good during his visit; for of course he would have argued, with any person likely to cavil, "it was part of his business to speak of religion, or what good was it for him to be a parson?" 66 Nelly was delighted to think that her father had received Mr. Elstone so cordially; and, for the first time since she had left Jim and Mary's roof, felt that the end of the many days" might yet draw near, and that she might live to see them. Once again—the first time for many weeks-she was able to stand at her ironing-board, singing a hymn which she and the Edmondses had often sung together at their evening worship :— Though faint, yet pursuing, we go on our way, And to his green pastures our footsteps he leads; And brings back the wanderers safe from the snares. And there all his people eternally dwell, With Him who hath led them so safely and well; ARE YOU IN TROUBLE? THIS is a question to which some people are always ready to answer, Yes. In their own view they are the most tried and troubled of all men or women. They seem to themselves, at least, never to be free from worry or vexation of some kind or other. Nothing goes right with them. They show it in their very faces. They have always a downcast, sulky look. They even seem to be fond of trouble, as if they were never happy, after their own miserable fashion, except they had something to vex themselves about; and if they have no real trouble, they will soon find or fancy one. Now it is not for such as these that this paper is written. I have only one word of advice to give them, that they repent of their ingratitude and pray for a contented mind. But there are some who can answer this question truly. They are in trouble. There is some real sorrow under which they go mourning all the day long. There will be some such who will read these words. Let us then have a little friendly talk about the matter. Some are often in trouble from their own folly or sin. They have been careless, and their circumstances have suffered. Debt and difficulty stare them in the face. Some have been imprudent in their conduct, and their reputation has suffered. They have lost the respect of their neighbours, and, what is worse, they have lost respect for themselves. They cannot hold up their heads and meet their friends without flinching. Perhaps it is worse still, and they have not only been imprudent, but have done some wrong, some sin against God and man, and it has been found out, or they are afraid it will be. This is a sad kind of trouble, the worst of all indeed. But if you are troubled on this account, thank God that you are. This may seem strange to you, but it is true that you ought to do so. Thank him that he has linked together, so that man cannot separate them, sin and sorrow; that we cannot do wrong without its bringing trouble upon ourselves and thank him too that he has made it a trouble to you. : This is the first thing to do, but it is not all. When trouble comes upon us because of our sin, it is a call of God to us to repent and turn from our evil way. When Robert Jones, the carpenter, fell down and broke his leg, going home tipsy from the public-house last Whitsuntide, so that he was unable to work for six weeks, and has been in trouble ever since, was not this a warning to him? Yes! it was the voice of God speaking to him by his trouble, bidding him turn from his evil ways, saying to him: "Sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee." John v. 14. And so perhaps your trouble speaks to you. It is not sent that you may grow hardened and careless; nor yet to drive you to despair. It is the voice of a gracious Father chas tising you that you may turn from the way of destruction. It means: "Turn ye, turn ye: why will ye die?" Ezek. xxxiii. 11. Some are in trouble of spirit because they have forsaken God. In times past they have found him their refuge and strength, "a very present help in trouble;" but, like the Israelites, they have "forsaken him the fountain of living waters, and have hewn out to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water." They have been trusting to earthly refuges, earthly hopes, and have been seeking their joy in them; and now they are beginning to find out, what all must find out sooner or later, that these cisterns are broken cisterns, and these refuges, refuges of lies. So they are in trouble. They are unhappy, unsatisfied, restless. Yet they are ashamed to go to him who is their only hope. But, my friends, you must go to him. will only get worse and worse the longer you stay away. You must say to yourself as David did: "Return unto thy rest, O my soul." You must "take with you words and return to the Lord, and say to him: Take away all our iniquity, and receive us graciously.' " Hosea xiv. 2. then, and not till then, will you be able to say: "Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing; thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness." You And Some are in trouble under the gracious hand of God. Some heavy trial has fallen upon them about which they can only say, "It is the Lord.' They cannot understand why it has been sent, and it is not for the present joyous but grievous. It is like a burden too heavy to be borne; yet you cannot be rid of it. It is with you when you lie down and when you rise up. You carry it with you everywhere. It goes with you to your work; you cannot put it off by your fireside. Like a dark cloud it spreads gloom over everything, and seems to oppress your very soul. If you forget it for a little while, the sense of it soon returns, and it seems harder to bear than ever. You ask yourself why it was sent, and you can find no answer. There is only one remedy for it. You must wait and trust. You know there is some good purpose in it if you are truly a friend and follower of Christ. You know too that it is necessary, or God would not have sent it. You know too it is a proof of his love, and not of his anger; "for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." Heb. xii. 6. He has many things to teach us which can only be taught by suffering. Perhaps he is thus fitting us for his service, teaching us to endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. Perhaps he designs to make our suffering a means of good to others, and is thus fulfilling our desire to be useful. Perhaps he is thus teaching us more of his own grace and kindness. "I should never have known how good the Lord was," said a severely tried Christian, "if I had not been in trouble." And David could say: "It has been good for me that I have been afflicted." Psalm cxix. 7, Wait and hope. Leave him to answer the question, Why? It is for him to arrange our lives, and give the necessary share of pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, success and failure. When the six hundred rode to death on the field of Balaclava, it was enough for them that they were bidden by their commanding officers : "Theirs not to reason why, Theirs not to make reply: Theirs but to do and die!" Shall it be less so with the soldiers and the friends of Christ? If he gives us the cross and tells us to bear it through the thickest of the fight, shall we not follow him? The time of triumph is at hand; the time of rest and reward. Are you in trouble now? There shall be " no more pain, neither sorrow nor sighing." Are you perplexed and in darkness now? "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face." 1 Cor. xiii. Wait for the dawn, wait for the glorious day! "Yet a season and we know Happy entrance shall be given, VOYAGE OF THE DUFF. STRIKING PROVIDENCE. WHO has not heard or read of the ship Duff, and of her missionary voyages, and of her pious and excellent captain, James Wilson? At six in the morning, August 10, 1796, she sailed from London for the South Pacific Ocean. The missionary flag, three doves bearing olivebranches in their bills, was raised to her masthead, her sails were given to the favouring breezes, and to the music of a hundred voices singing the hymn, 66 Jesus, at thy command, we launch into the deep," |