finding a floating plank by his side on the water clung to it. The wind soon wafted him with the plank out to sea. A British man-of-war passing by, discovered the plank and the child; and a sailor, at the risk of his life, plunged into the sea and brought him on board.

He could inform them but little more than that his name was Jack. They gave him the name of Poor Jack. He grew up on board that man-of-war, behaved well, and gained the love of all the officers and men. He became an officer of the sick and wounded department. During an action of the late war, an aged man came under his care, nearly in a dying state. He was all kindness and attention to the suffering stranger, but could not save his life. The aged patient was dying, and thus addressed this kind young officer: "For the great attention you have shown me I give you this only treasure I am possessed of (presenting him with a Bible, bearing the stamp of the British and Foreign Bible Society). It was given me by a lady; has been the means of my conversion; and has been a great comfort to me. Read it, it will lead you in the way you should go." He went on to confess the wickedness and profligacy of his life before the reception of his Bible, and among other enormities, how he once cast a little son, three years of age, into the sea, because he cried to him for needy food! The young officer inquired of him the time and place, and found here was his own history. Reader, judge if you can, of his feelings, to recognise in this dying old man, his own father, dying a penitent, under his care! And, judge of the feelings of the dying penitent, to find that the same kind young stranger was his son, the very son whom he had plunged into the sea; and had no idea but he had immediately perished! A description of their mutual feelings will not be attempted. The old man soon expired in the arms of his son. The latter left the service, and became a pious preacher of the gospel. On closing this story, the minister in the meeting of the Bible Society, bowed to the chairman and said, "Sir, I am poor Jack."

The Child may Win the Parent.

THE following proof of this occurred not long since in the United States: Two daughters of an irreligions father, while away from home, embraced religion. The father alarmed, immediately sent for them home; but before the messenger reached them, they had made their lasting choice, and found the peace the world cannot give. They returned to their father's-not overwhelmed (as he expected) with gloom and despondency, but with countenances beaming with a heavenly serenity and celestial hope.

They told their father what the Lord had done for their souls-that they were pilgrims here-they kept in view the bright fields of promise as they traversed this desert of sin, and were looking for that city which hath oundations.

Soon after their return home, they were anxious to establish family worship. They affectionately requested of their father to commence that duty. He replied that he saw no use in it. He had lived very well more than fifty years without prayer, and he could not be burdened with it now. They then asked permission to pray with the family themselves. Not thinking they would have confidence to do it, he assented to the proposition.

The duties of the day being ended, and the hour for retiring to rest having arrived, the sisters drew forward the stand, placed on it the Bible-one read a chapterthey both kneeled the other engaged in prayer. The father stood, and while the humble fervent prayer of his daughter was ascending on devotion's wings to heaven, his knees began to tremble, his nerves, which had been gathering strength for half a century, could no longer support him- he also kneeled, and then became prostrate on the floor. God heard their prayer, and directed their father's weeping eyes (which had never shed tears of penitence before) to the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.

Estimate of the Bible.

THE justly celebrated Sir William Jones, one of the brightest geniuses and most distinguished scholars of the eighteenth century, observes, "I have carefully and regularly perused these holy Scriptures, and am of opinion that the volume, independently of its divine origin, contains more sublimity, purer morality, more important history, and finer strains of eloquence, than can be collected from ALL other books, in whatever language they may have been written." It is related that the eminent English poet Collins, in the latter part of his mortal career, withdrew from study, and traveled with no other book than an English Testament, such as children carry to school. When a friend took it in his hand, out of curiosity, to see what companion a man of letters had chosen; "I have only one book," said he, " but it is the best." John Locke, so distinguished as a philosopher, in the latter part of his life studied scarcely any thing but the Word of God; and when asked, which was the surest way for a young man to attain a knowledge of the Christian religion, he replied, "Let him study the Holy Scriptures, especially the New Testament. Therein are contained the words of eternal life. It hath God for its author-SALVATION for its end-and TRUTH, without any mixture of error, for its matter.

The Righteous never Forsaken.

It was Saturday night, and the widow of the Pine cottage sat by her blazing faggots with her five tattered children at her side, endeavoring by listening to the artlessness of their juvenile prattle, to dissipate the heavy gloom that pressed upon her mind. For a year her own feeble hands had provided for her helpless family, for she had no supporter; she thought of no friend in all the wide, unfriendly world around-But that mysterious Providence, the wisdom of whose ways are above human comprenension, had visited her with wasting sickness, and her little means had become exhausted. It was now, too, mid-winter, and the snow lay heavy and deep through

all the surrounding forests, while storms still seemea gathering in the heavens and the driving wind roared amidst the bending pines, and rocked her puny mansion.

The last herring smoked upon the coals before her; it was the only article of food she possessed, and no wonder her forlorn desolate state brought up in her bosom, all the anxieties of a mother, when she looked upon her children; and no wonder, forlorn as she was, if she suf fered the heart swellings of despair to rise, even though she knew that he whose promise is to the widow and to the orphan, cannot forget his word. Providence had many years before, taken from her her eldest son, who went from his forest home, to try his fortune on the high seas, since which she had heard no note or tidings of him; and in latter times, had, by the hand of death, deprived her of the companion and staff of her worldly pilgrimage, in the person of her husband. Yet to this hour she had been upborne, she had not only been able to provide for her little flock, but had never lost an opportunity of ministering to the wants of the poor and destitute.

The indolent may well bear with poverty, while the ability to gain sustenance remains. The individual who has but his own wants to supply, may suffer with fortitude the winter of want; his affections are not wounded, his heart not wrung. The most desolate in populous cities may hope, for charity has not quite closed her hand and heart, and shut her eyes on misery. But the industrious mother of helplessness and depending childrenfar from the reach of human charity, has none of these to console her. And such an one was the widow of the Pine cottage; but as she bent over the fire and took up the last scanty remnant of food to spread before her children, her spirits seemed to brighten up, as by some sudden and mysterious impulse, and Cowper's beautiful lines came uncalled across her mind

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace,
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.

THE smoked herring was scarcely laid upon the table, when a gentle rap at the door, and loud barking of a deg,

attracted the attention of the family. The children flew to open it, and a weary traveler, in tattered garments, and apparently indifferent health, entered and begged a lodging, and a mouthful of food; said he, "it is now twentyfour hours since I tasted bread." The widow's heart bled anew as under a fresh complication of distresses; for her sympathies lingered not round her fireside. She hesitated not even now; rest and share of all she had, she proffered to the stranger. "We shall not be forsaken," said she, "or suffer deeper for an act of charity."

The traveler drew near the board-but when he saw the scanty fare, he raised his eyes towards heaven with astonishment "and is this all your store?" Said he"and a share of this do you offer to one you know not? Then never saw 1 charity before! but madam" said he, continuing, do you not wrong your children by giving a part of your last mouthful to a stranger." "Ah," said the poor widow, and the tear drops gushed into her eyes as she said it, "I have a boy, a darling son, somewhere on the face of this wide world, unless Heaven has taken him away, and I only act towards you, as I would that others should act towards him. Go who sent manna from Heaven can provide for us as he did for Israel-and how should I this night offend him, if my son should be a wanderer, destitute as you, and he should have provided for him a home even poor as this-were I to turn you unrelieved away."

The widow ended, and the stranger springing from his seat, clasped her in his arms "God, indeed, has provided just such such a home for your wandering son, and has given him wealth to reward the goodness of his benefactress-my mother! oh my mother!"

It was her long lost son, returned from the Indies to her bosom. He had chosen that disguise, that he might the more completely surprise his family; and never was surprise more perfect, or followed by a sweeter cup of joy-That humble residence in the forest was exchanged for one comfortable, and indeed beautiful in the valley, and the widow lived long with her dutiful son, in the en joyment of worldly plenty, and in the delightful employ ments of virtue, and at this day the passer-by is pointed to the luxuriant willow that spreads its branches broad