light and joy to the soul, and give the peace which the world cannot take away. Christian readerin tribulation, in the hour of sorrow, in the day of perplexity and care, when thy spirit is overwhelmed within thee, and thou scarcely knowest which way to direct thy steps, always choose the path of duty; it may at first appear a rugged and a difficult one, but it will lead to a country, beautified with unfading flowers, and rich with the blessings of immortality.

Let no worldly consideration prevent you from coming to Christ. Leave all, and obey the voice which says 99 "Follow me.

M. A. F.

AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY.

DO YOU PRAY MUCH FOR YOUR MINISTER? MANY persons are to be found idly lamenting their own want of profit under the word preached, to whom this inquiry may be a little startling. Such are affectionately entreated to remember that they "forsake their own mercies," and lightly esteem one of the greatest privileges a Christian can enjoy.

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The apostle, who well knew the worth of prayer, often entreated that his hearers would pray for him." By this he did not mean the formal prayer on his behalf, but a hearty, constant, wrestling intercession, "that the word might have free course and be glorified." "Now I beseech you, brethren, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake," (Oh, what a powerful consideration!) "and for the love of the Spirit, that ye strive together with me in your prayers to God

for me." Such need did the apostle Paul feel of divine help in proclaiming the glorious gospel of the blessed God. And if we are sincere in desiring apostolic zeal and principles bestowed on our ministers,-if we desire Pentecostal conversions, if we lament and mourn over existing coldness, backwardness, and sin,-Oh, let us emulate the example of apostolic converts-let us continue steadfastly in prayer, resolved to take no denial, to " pray without ceasing," to be "praying always," "until the Spirit be poured down from on high,” and the “Lord shall add unto the church daily such as shall be saved." Let us not forget that this is an individual work; we must not wait till the whole church, nor until all our fellow members feel alike. No, we have souls to be fed-we have each to give account of ourselves to God;" and, however few may be our talents, how little soever we may think we have it in our power to promote a revival, yet each one can cry mightily to God in secret, for a blessing on the minister, and include for its blessed object, his own soul's prosperity, the edification of his fellow members, and the conversion of the ungodly. Let these objects be pleaded for with fervour, wrestled for till they are obtained, and what will the result be but a blessed revival, whereby the glory of God will be promoted, and sinners saved from the wrath to come? Thus may the poorest, the weakest member of a Christian church be the honoured instrument of calling down the blessing of a revival, by fervently praying for the Minister,

TO THE MEMORY OF A DEAR SABBATH SCHOLAR.

"Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair Spirit! rest thee now!

E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod,
His seal was on thy brow.

"Dust, to its narrow house beneath!
Soul, to its place on high!

They who have seen thy look in death,

No more may fear to die!"

MRS. HEMANS.

His love was for these very flowers,
Though faded now their bloom;
His warm delight, this holy page,
That oft dispels my gloom;

His warbling notes were that sweet strain-
Faith, peace, and pardon given ;-

His docile life was angel-like,

Less fit for earth than heaven.

But early hath our HENRY left

The happy hearth and throng;

The hand of death hath closed those lips,
And hushed that gentle song!

The "pitcher at the fountain's broke"-
The silver cord" is riven;

But joyful now, with golden harp,

He joins the song of heaven!

How sudden was the summons sent,
To quit this world of woe;

To leave the loved ones-hovering round-
And youth's delights forego:

And bright the eye at parting shone,
That for calm rest had striven;
He slumbered on his Saviour's breast,
And then awoke in heaven.

His father and his mother hung
Around his couch that night,
And heard their dear departing child
Commune with spirits bright;

He answered, as they thronged to bring
The message to them given,-

"There is another, I will go !

I long for home-my heaven!"
And brethren, mingling with that group,
And sisters-bathed in tears-
Beheld his smile, when Jesus gave
The robe of white he wears.

Far from each bowed and wond'ring heart
False fears and doubts were driven;
They knew the Saviour had prepared
His promised mansion-heaven!

And still his flowers, and books, and words

To us shall be as dear;

And still the song he loved we'll sing,

When God alone is near.

And still, when myriad stars shine forth,

And join in praise at even,

We'll think of him, and that repose

His soul hath found in heaven!

Belfast, Feb. 11, 1843.

Σιγμα.

"WE ALL DO FADE."

Sublunary things decay;

Life is but a passing day,

Melting, vanishing_away;

For we must die.

Sweetly bloom the flowers of spring,

Bright in early blossoming;

But, alas! soon withering;

For all must die.

The setting orb of night her lever ray
Shed o'er the land, and on the dewy sward,
The lengthened shadows of the tripled cross
Were laid far-stretch'd,-when in the east arose,
Last of the stars, day's harbinger. No sound
Was heard, save of the watching soldier's foot:
Within the rock-barred sepulchre, the gloom
Of deepest midnight brooded o'er the dead,
The Holy One: but, lo! a radiance faint
Began to dawn about his sacred brow:
The linen vesture seemed a snowy wreath,
Drifted by storms into a mountain cave: