He bears the palm-he sings the song
And mingles with that glittering throng;
He casts his crown, but not alone,

For millions stands around the throne.

Light of heaven! light of love!
Oh! may we all thy mercy prove.

Oh! may we meet that cherub band

And claim, thro' Christ, that heavenly land!

We left the chapel, copied the memorial, and, though many days have passed away, the charming sentiment still lingers upon the heart.

Macclesfield.

THE WANDERER,

LIVE FOR A PURPOSE.

MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,-allow me to address you in a few brief observations respecting the above subject. You know that you were not sent into this world merely to live in idleness-to be doing nothing of any practical advantage to any one around you; in short, as though there were no hereafter, and consequently to live in profound indifference, thinking neither on your own moral and spiritual advancement, nor that of any one else. This, my dear young friends, is not the purpose of our being while we are journeying through this world, this state of probation is our schooling days.

We should, in the first place, seek to have our sins taken away by the atonement and blood of Jesus. This should be the first thing I would say to you, that everything else is secondary to this. "Seek ye the Kingdom of Heaven;" this is the primary duty of us all. If you ask me why I enforce this first of all, I will answer, that our time is very short in this world, and not only short, but very uncertain. "We are here to-day, but gone to-morrow;" therefore, it behoves you and me to make sure of heaven first of all,

because it is of the highest importance for dying mortals to well consider their everlasting destiny.

Now I have briefly touched on your first duty, which I hope you will well consider for yourselves before it be too late. Let me ask you whether there is not a vast field for your labours? You can all do something in this big world of ours. Let me say, "Live for a purpose." You can do a great deal of good if you only look around you. You may say, what can I do? I answer, you can help those who are broken down by reason of trouble; and you can help those who cannot read, and lead such in the right road. I would advise you to read the biographies of some of our distinguished men, such men as Watt, Stephenson, Faraday, Livingstone, Vicars, Morrison, Brunel, and many other men, who were lights of no ordinary magnitude in this perverse generation. In reading the lives of such men, what an amount of instruction they ought to give us; in a word, they lived for a purpose while they were in the world. They were not half-hearted. No, they went forward in their various callings, all differing, it may be, in their avocations, but all with a oneness of purpose. Oh, dear young friends, this is the grand secret-it is this, as it were, that unlocks the book of science, the book of books, the Bible, and the book of nature. I would say to you all, be up and doing, and more especially at this very important period of your history. Now is the time for you to begin to expand in your acts of usefulness and benevolence, and thus your development in virtue may be great and glorious. Who can tell?

In conclusion, dear young friends, suffer just a word by way of exhortation. Your time may be very short, therefore arise, stand forth, be ready, fight the Lord's battles. Do not be defeated by anyone. Copy the example of the great; they were not easily overcome. No, they fought nobly and manfully and Christianlike. May you, my dear young friends, "Live for a purpose."

Plymouth.

THOS. HEATH, Jun.

PERSEVERANCE.

A SWALLOW in the spring,
Came to our granary, and 'neath the eaves

Essay'd to make a nest, and there did bring

Wet earth, and straw, and leaves.

Day after day she toil'd

With patient heart; but ere her work was crown'd, Some sad mishap the tiny fabric spoil'd,

And dash'd it to the ground.

She found the ruin wrought;

But not cast down, forth from the place she flew,

And, with her mate, fresh earth and grasses brought,

And built her nest anew.

But scarcely had she placed

The last soft feather on its ample floor,

When wicked hand, or chance, again laid waste,

And wrought the ruin o'er.

But still her heart she kept,
And toil'd again; and last night, hearing calls,
I looked, and lo! three little swallows slept
Within the earth-made walls.

What truth is here, O man!

Hath hope been smitten in its early dawn?
Have clouds o'ercast thy purpose, trust, or plan?

Have FAITH, and struggle on.

Jesus is our Shep-herd, wip-ing every

To the thirs-ty de-sert, or the dew-y mead.

Jesus is our Shepherd, may we know his voice!
How its gentle whisper makes our heart rejoice!
Even when he chideth tender is his tone;
None but he shall guide us: we are his alone.

Jesus is our Shepherd; for the sheep he bled;
Every lamb is sprinkled with the blood he shed;
Then on each he setteth his own secret sign,
They that have my Spirit, these, saith he, are mine.

Jesus is our Shepherd, guarded by his arm,
Though the wolves may raven, none can do us harm;
When we tread death's valley, dark with fearful gloom,
Wo will fear no evil, victors o'er the tomb.

Juvenile Biography,

MARY ANN BAYES entered the infant department of our Sunday-school, at Great Thornton Street, Hull first circuit, about seven years ago, and remained a scholar therein up to the time of her death. She was punctual in her attendance, and diligent in learning her lessons. Her attachment to the school was so great that she could not be persuaded to leave it for another; and her affections had been so won by her teachers, that, at her own request, she remained in the elementary portion of the school after being eligible to take her place among advanced scholars. Her parents state that she was a good child at home, and was accustomed in saying her prayers to add a brief petition for her father and mother. The superintendent of the school had wisely suggested to his scholars this likely method of reaching their parents hearts by praying for them. When she was converted is not known, but, by the fruits of piety and goodness in her life, it was evident that she had become the subject of a gracious change of heart. On being asked in her illness if Jesus had pardoned her sins, she promptly replied, "O, yes." Her affliction was of several weeks' duration, and her pain was sometimes very great, but she bore it patiently. Her mother once said to her that God seemed to be dealing hardly with her. "Oh, no, mother," was the reply, "it is all right, and you will see it after I am gone." She was pleased with the visits paid her by her friends from the school. To the superintendent she said she would rather die than live. When this friend was unable to visit her, she said, " I know Mr. Chapman will be praying for me." She spoke to her parents about Jesus and angels being in the room with her; and, happy in her Saviour's dying love, she left this vale of tears for a better world, January 30th, 1870, aged ten years and eight months.

J. H.

MARY TAYLOR, aged seven years, was a scholar at Armitts