countless throng, personally loved, personally cared for, personally known to the Great Shepherd, and so intimately, that He calls them by their name. To John, as he looked, it was a countless throng, but to the Shepherd's eye each one as precious, as dear as if the only one, to be personally known to Jesus—each one holding communion with Him, and learning in its fullest sense the meaning of the words “ Who loved Me, and gave Himself for Me.” And now I love to think of that great multitude, and of joining in their one great anthem of praise “To Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, to Him be glory and dominion for ever.”

“He knows His sheep,
He counts them, and He calleth them by name;

He goes before ;
They follow, as He leads through flood or flame.

O Lamb of God !
True Shepherd and true Lamb Thou both in one,

Us lead, us feed,
Till, all our wanderings done, we reach the throne.”

H. C.

66

The Sower.
HE sultry sun was shining o'er the Galilean hills,

, and rils ;

Alas! not all will prosper, for on the wayside bare
Some precious seed has fallen, and will be wasted there;
For, hovering overhead, behold the greedy birds of prey
Ready, as soon as it may fall, to carry it away.

Some fell on stony places, and when the sun was high
The blade which sprang up all too soon began to droop and die.
And some fell where the brambles were growing rank and tall,
The thorns came up and choked it, and it bore no fruit at all.

Some fell upon the fertile soil, and striking deep its root
Bore, to make glad the sower's heart, rich stores of golden fruit."
The story then is ended they had listened to that day ;
And now the restless multitudes begin to move away.

Be not like those who built their house upon the shifting sand, Be doers of the word, and build where firm the rock shall stand. So shall your path shine more and more unto that perfect day, The brightness of whose glory shall never fade away.”

Y. E. T.

Sacramental Hymn.
W"
E come unto Thy table, Lord,

In sweet remembrance of Thy love ;
We come, obedient to Thy Word,

The richness of Thy grace to prove.

We plead the blood that Thou hast shed,

Thy body broken on the tree;
We trust the words which Thou hast said

When Thou didst bid us come to Thee.

Thou hast invited, and we come

With solemn joy to meet Thee here:
The Spirit on our hearts doth move,

And we approach with holy fear.

Our deep unworthiness we own,

Our multitudes of sin confess;
And for acceptance trust alone

Unto Thy perfect righteousness.

The bread and wine before us spread

As emblems of Thy death we see ;
And as our lips by these are fed,

Se feast our souls by faith on Thee.

Oh, gracious Saviour, deign to bless

The mystic emblems we receive ;
And let our future lives confess

As saved by Thee by Thee we live.

E. S. H,

The Little Dandelion Gatherers.
NE fine summer evening a little party, consisting of

a father and mother, their four children, and the
gardener, stood on the lawn in a well-cultivated

garden, admiring the flowers that grew on the trimly-kept beds, and enjoying the delicious coolness of the fragrant air.

first in his class, bending his whole energies to the tasks which awaited him.

The sunny afternoon passed, and the sun began to sink low in the heavens, but still the lad was absorbed in his studies. Probably he was unacquainted with the time of the returning tide, or if he was, he allowed the matter to slip from his memory. At any rate the first thing which drew off his attention from his beloved books was the dashing of the spray in his face. Then he rose and looked around. What could it mean? Was he hemmed in? Yes! Before him lay a vast seething, roaring, rushing mass of waters rolling restlessly here and there, guided towards every nook and corner of the coast by some mighty invisible force. The nook in which he was studying was surrounded on three sides, and part of the fourth, by high and precipitous cliffs, up which it would be as impossible to climb as up a high straight wall, while shutting him in and slowly rising around him, were the cold, cruel waters. He rushed to the little opening in front, but here he found that the waters had risen high, while all around they were pouring in with relentless fury.

Willie was only seventeen, and at seventeen the wish for life is strong. Shrieking for help, he ran hither and thither, looking if perchance some outlet or some boat could furnish a chance of escape. Unfortunately he could not swim, or it would have been short work to cast off his clothes, leap into the water and swim to the open shore. easily imagine how again and again he strove to climb up the precipitous sides of the rocks, striving to obtain a foothold, and failed. The spray of the water dashed up over him, and with swiftly beating heart and hands cut by the rocks, he must have fallen back to face death.

Still the waters were rising. Now the water was up past his knees,—now up to his breast, although he retreated to the highest standing-place he could find. But was Willie really afraid to die?

No! He had received good, careful Christian training.

We may

a