Had she, then, looked as ridiculous as the trimmed-up saucepan ? Perhaps she had, for nothing looks well out of its place. No station in life is more honourable than that of a servant ; but when a servant tries to pass for a lady, she loses her respectability because she loses her truth. The lesson Fanny now learned she never forgot. Her mistress's manner was so kind when she told her how much she valued her, and how it pained her to see a good servant make herself ridiculous through the love of dress, that Fanny almost cried, and declared "she wouldn't be ashamed to learn a lesson off her own saucepan, for if it had had its way it would never have been dressed up like a maypole for everybody to laugh at." "At Ease in Zion." T ease in Zion"-is not this the description of multitudes who name the name of Christ? There may not always be "revellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries," but even where these are absent, there is "high living," luxury of the table or the wardrobe. "At ease in Zion!" Yes; there is the shrinking from hard service; from "spending and being spent;" from toil and burden-bearing and conflict; from self-sacrifice and noble adventure for the Master's sake. There is conformity to the world instead of conformity to Christ. There is a following afar off instead of keeping pace with Him whom we profess to follow. There is a laying down instead of a taking up of the cross; or there is a lining of the cross, lest it should gall our shoulders as we carry it; or there is an adorning of it that it may suit the taste and the manners of an intellectual and refined age. Anything but the bare and simple cross! For we think that we have made the strait gate wider, and the narrow way broader, so as to be able to walk more comfortably to the kingdom.-Dr. H. Bonar. BY JOHN CALVIN. THE following hymn is taken from Dr. Schaff's volume entitled "Christ in Song." Dr. Schaff says, "This hymn, together with eleven others (mostly translations of psalms), written in French, was recently discovered by Felix Bovet, of Neuchâtel, in an old Genevese prayer-book. It reveals a poetic vein, and a devotional fervour and tenderness, which one would hardly have suspected in the severe logician." The English translation is by the wife of Professor Henry B. Smith, of New York. I GREET Thee, who my sure Redeemer art, True Bridegroom and sole Saviour of my heart! And pain didst undergo For my poor, worthless sake; And pray Thee, from our hearts And foolish care to take. Thou art the King of mercy and of grace, Of Thy pure, heavenly day. Thou art the Life by which alone we live, When comes the trying hour. Thou art the true and perfect gentleness; Make us adore and love The sweet grace found in Thee; With longing to abide Ever at Thy dear side, In Thy sweet unity. Our hope is in no other save in Thee, Make us so strong and sure That we shall conquerors be, Shall every ill endure. Poor, banished exiles, wretched sons of Eve, Full of all sorrows, unto Thee we grieve! To Thee we bring our sighs, Our groanings and our cries; Thy pity, Lord, we crave; We take the sinner's place, And pray Thee, of Thy grace, To pardon and to save. Turn Thy sweet eyes upon our low estate, Our Mediator and our Advocate; Propitiator best! Give us that vision blest, The God of gods, Most High! And let us by Thy right Enter the blessed light And glories of the sky! Oh, pitiful and gracious as Thou art, The antichrist, our foe, In all his cruel ruth! The Spirit give, that we May, in true verity, Follow Thy Word of truth! MERRY party of young folks were assembled in the garden of Hazlehatch Court to celebrate the birthday of Alice Riley, the granddaughter of its owner. The glass doors of the old gentleman's drawing-room opened on to the lawn, so that he could sit in his easy chair and divide his attention between his book and the games that were going on in the garden; for Mr. Riley was one whose cheerful spirit could enter into the happiness of youth almost as though he were himself young, instead of bordering on seventy years of age. Suddenly he noticed a gathering together of the little group, and a general gaze upwards, as though something unusual was exciting attention overhead; and in another minute Alice, a bright-looking girl of fourteen years old, ran into the room, shouting A balloon, grandpapa! a balloon! come quick, and see it. It is going higher and higher every instant." A balloon assuredly it was; and most gracefully it sailed along for a time, as though its occupants were satisfied with the height it had attained, till it passed completely over the heads of the excited spectators; then it again began to ascend steadily and swiftly till it entered a cloud which completely hid it from sight. Its reappearance was anxiously watched for in vain, till a passing shower, and the welcome sound of the bell for tea, sent the young party into the old-fashioned but comfortable dining-room of Hazlehatch Court. The rain continued for some time, rendering any further out-door amusements impracticable; so they fell to talking. "How soaked the men in the balloon must be getting!" exclaimed one of the girls; "fancy how disagreeable to be in the middle of all this rain so high up in the air.” "But it is highly probable," said the host, who happened to hear her remark, "that the balloon is at this moment soaring about in bright sunshine." "How can that be, grandpapa ?" exclaimed Alice Riley, in amazement; "there is scarcely a bit of blue sky to be seen— nothing but clouds everywhere." 66 True, Alice; but the balloon may have risen above the clouds." "How delightful it would be," said Mary Rainforth—a delicate-looking girl in deep mourning-" if whenever it rains one could get into a balloon and mount up into sunshine." |