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"Oh

except it be blessed of God to this end. that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!"

It appears from the account given by the other boys that they had been working at this cave or tunnel for about three weeks at intervals, so doubtless had been planning and contriving in their minds what purpose they would turn it to; but whatever might have been their intentions, how soon it was all frustrated and became a thing of nought! We are all by nature continually scheming, plotting, and contriving for the future, but, alas! if all our care is about the perishing things of time, if these have the cream of our affections and desires, we are certainly playing with the sand or dust of this world, which, if a miracle of grace prevent not, will crush us into a pit of bottomless woe. Oh, what are the riches, pleasures, and honours of this world, compared with the immortal soul? "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" May you and I, fellow-gleaners, be among that number that know wisdom to be the principal thing, and that get this wisdom, Christ in our hearts the hope of glory; then shall we count all things but loss for the sake of Jesus, esteeming His reproach greater riches than all the treasures of this world.

We are told in Scripture of a wise man who built his house upon a rock. He was one who had heard the sayings of Jesus, and kept them; but there was one, contrasted with him, who heard, and did them not; he built his house upon the sand, and you know the blessed safety of the one and the terrible ruin of the other. The former had Christ for his Foundation, the latter the

sand of human merit-earth, indifference, and sin. We see from the results of the above accident the awful folly of working or building with sand. But, oh, how much greater folly to build upon sand, when the building is for eternity! And what is it to build upon sand? This may be answered in a few words. All who hope for salvation in anything short of Christ formed in their hearts the hope of glory-who live in the world, or in a profession, contented, and never bow their necks to the yoke of Jesus

are building on this shifting fourdation. How is it with us in this matter? for remember, we are either building on the sand or on the Rock. If we think we are not so bad as many, and flatter ourselves with the delusion that by good conduct, avoiding bad company, attending to religious duties (which are all praiseworthy), will recommend us to the favour of God, we are building upon the sand. On the other hand, if we are are found practically following that which is good, at the same time trampling all our own works under foot, and counting them, for peace with God, but as filthy rags, and by faith are relying upon the imputed righteousness of the Lord Jesus, then is our foundation the Rock of Ages that never moves.

"Oh, shall we never cease to scheme
For happiness below,

Till death disturb the pleasing dream,
And we awake to woe?

Dear Saviour, make us timely wise,
Thy Gospel to attend,

That we may live above the skies,
When this poor life shall end."

Deptford, June, 1867.

S. B.

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HAPPY DEATH OF A FRENCHWOMAN.

THE following pages contain, a translation we have just made of a letter received from a Christian friend in Pau. The writer is a Frenchman, whose acquaintance we made in Boulogne in 1857. We have continued to have some correspondence with him from that time. The letter relates the illness and death of his eldest daughter. During a visit to Boulogne a few years since, we were privileged to be present at her baptism, and to break bread to a few French Christians professing faith in Jesus, and submission to His kingly rule. The writer, Monsieur D- -, was then accustomed to speak the word to this little gathering, which has, since his departure from Boulogne, been scattered. True believers are few everywhere: "Narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it:" but in France true Christians are singularly few. Popery and infidelity embrace the masses, and in the Protestant establishment there is, I fear, a large portion of rationalism and mere formality, while among the Dissenters there are frequently very indistinct views of the doctrines of grace. No doubt, both in L'Eglise Nationale and the Protestant Church, and among the Dissenters, there are persons who are by grace what they are, not in accordance with, but in spite of, their surroundings. The whole field of Christendom is sown with tares and wheat; and a blade of wheat, I believe, is found in the ancient town of Pau. There, in the vicinity of the Pyrenees, lives Monsieur D- with his family.

His last letter we translate for the benefit of our readers:

Pau, Basses Pyrenées, 25th May, 1867. DEAR BROTHER IN OUR LORD, I will to

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