ALMOST SAVED!

I

A MAN is drowning! He fell off the pier-head into the
sea, and look! You can see his head just above the
waves! There! he has caught hold of the rope those
men have thrown to him. Now he has it! No, he has
missed it! Ah! that huge wave has carried him farther
out. Nothing can save him now! Oh, if he had but
caught the rope when he was so near it. "And he so
near being saved," says one honest fellow, dashing a
tear from his eye; "why, the rope fairly touched his
hand!" Ay, that made it all the worse! To think of
his being drowned after all, when he was almost saved!
Almost saved! Children, do you not hear that cry from
another world? "I was once very near being saved.
had almost made up my mind to accept of Christ, but did
not do it, and now it is too late! Lost! lost! and for
ever! Oh, if I might go back to earth again, and hear
once more of Jesus. Oh, that I had come to Him then,
when I might have come!" Dear reader, are you almost
persuaded to be a Christian? Then there is one great
difference between you and that poor drowning man. It
was not his fault that he missed the rope. He did all
that he could; he clutched at that rope with all the
strength of despair, and who blames him because he
missed it? But, ah! it is not so with you. You know
you might be saved at this moment if you liked; but
instead of laying hold of Christ at once, you are thinking
about it, and wishing, and hesitating, and putting off.
"Ye will not come to me that ye might have life," says
Christ. Better, better far, never to have heard of Jesus,
than to come so near to Him, and yet, at last, to hear
him say, "Depart, I never knew you."

"Sinners, turn, while God is near;
Dare not think him insincere:
Now, e'en now, your Saviour stards,
All day long he spreads his hands;
Cries,-ye will not happy be;
No, ye will not come to me-
Me, who life to none deny;
Why will ye resolve to die?"

SAD SIGHTS.

Ir was a glorious evening in the summer time; the setting sun was shedding his departing rays around; the trees bent beneath their rich and luxuriant foliage and

fast ripening fruit; the perfumes of odoriferous flowers were wafted by the gentle breeze; the feathered songsters were warbling their sweetest melodies, as we passed through a rural and sequestered village, on the banks of the Severn. The prospect all around was enchanting. Labourers were wending their steps homeward after their daily toil, and, ere they reached their rustic dwellings, the faces of happy children were seen peeping through the porch, to welcome them home, and but for the sad thought that sin had tainted that lovely spot, it would have seemed a type of the Paradise above.

We sped on our way through a lane, on either side green, and studded with the buttercups and daisies which children's hands delight to gather, and as we turned the corner, a group of boys were thoroughly enjoying innocent recreation; all seemed happy and joyous, but ere we were out of hearing notes of strife and discord sounded in our ear. One boy who had particularly drawn our attention, whose high intellectual forehead an intent observer could not but admire, on whose countenance good humour shone forth, was now, oh how changed! His eyes flashed with indignation, his bosom heaved with emotion, and angry words, which would not be proper to repeat, issued from his mouth. Sad, sad is the thought that in that lovely spot, and in that lad's heart, Satan should hold his dominion. May we not indulge the hope that ere long the usurper may be cast out through the power of Him "who was made manifest to destroy the works of the devil," and that his heart, with its youthful vigour, may be given to the Saviour?

But soon another spectacle passes before us, even more sad. A drunkard appears, whose bloated face tells the melancholy tale that he is old in his habits of intemperance; the beauties of creation have no charms for him. The flowers which are strewn around in such rich profusion, the love-gifts of our Heavenly Father, and the concert of the feathered tribes awake no tender feelings in his heart. Poor man, we sincerely pity you! and was it not for the thought that nothing is impossible with the Lord, and that He has ability to break "the power of cancelled sin," we should conclude there was no hope that those long-continued habits could be overcome. Let us strive to lessen the dominion of the evil one in our world; let us seek every opportunity of dethroning him, and giving to the Saviour His rightful

possession, encouraged by the promise that righteousness shall cover the earth as the waters cover the deep.

THE TREE OF DISSIPATION.

The

sin of

drunkenness

expels reason,

E. STONE.

drowns memory,
diminishes strength,
distempers the body,
defaces beauty, corrupts the
blood, inflames the liver, weakens
the brain, turns men into walking
hospitals; causes internal, external, and
incurable wounds; is a witch to the
senses, a devil to the soul, a thief to
the pocket; the beggar's com-
panion; a wife's woe, and
children's sorrow; makes
man become a beast and

a self-murderer; who
drinks to others
good health

and robs

himself
of his

own.

such evils is

The root of

DRUNKENNESS.

Sent by J. H.

THE SHEPHERD BOY AND HIS DOG. ONE Saturday evening, Halbert's mother was taken very ill. The cottage they lived in was far away among the mountains, far away from any path. The snow fell in large heavy flakes; and Malcolm (that was the shepherd's name) took down his

long pole, with the intention of setting out to the village to procure some medicine for his wife.

"Father," said little Halbert, "I know the sheep-path better than you, and, with Shag, who will walk before me, I am quite safe; let me go for the doctor, and do you stay and comfort my mother." Malcolm consented.

Halbert had been accustomed to the mountains from his early infancy; and Shag set out with his young master, wagging his tail, and making many jumps and grimaces. They went safely on. Halbert arrived at the village, saw the doctor, received some medicine for his mother, and then commenced his return with a cheerful heart.

Shag went on before to ascertain that all was right. Suddenly, however, he stopped, and began snuffing and smelling about. "Go on, Shag," said Halbert. Shag would not stir. Shag, go on, sir," repeated the boy, we are nearly at the top of the glen." Shag appeared obstinate for the first time in his life; and at last Halbert advanced alone, heedless of the warning growl of his companion. He had proceeded but a few steps, when he fell over a precipice, which had been concealed by a snow-wreath.

Malcolm was waiting patiently for his son; but no son came. At last he heard the bark of his faithful dog Shag. "My son, my son!" cried both parents at the same moment. The cottage door opened, and Shag entered without his master. "My brave boy has perished in the snow!" exclaimed the mother. At the same moment the father saw a small packet round the dog's neck, who was lying panting on the floor. "Our boy lives," said the shepherd. "Here is the medicine tied with his handkerchief; he has fallen into some of the pits, but he is safe; trust in God. I will go out, and Shag will conduct me safely to the rescue of my child." In an instant Shag was again on his feet, and testified the most unbounded joy, as they both issued from the cottage. You may imagine the misery the poor mother suffered while her husband was absent. She felt that both their lives depended on the sagacity of the poor dog; but she knew that God could guide the dumb creature's steps to the saving of both.

Shag went on straight and steadily for some yards, and then suddenly turned down a path, which led to the bottom of the crag over which Halbert had fallen. At last Malcolm stood at the lower edge of the pit into

which his son had fallen. He hallooed; he strained

his eyes; but could not see or hear anything. At last Malcolm succeeded in getting to the bottom, and Shag scrambled to a projecting ledge of rock, which was nearly embedded in snow, and commenced whining and scratching in a violent manner. Malcolm followed; and, after a long search, fonnd what appeared to be the dead body of his son. He hastily tore off the jacket, which was soaked with blood and snow, and wrapping Halbert in his plaid, strapped him across his shoulders, and with much toil and difficulty reascended. Halbert was placed in a bed, and with great exertion, roused from his dangerous sleep. He was much bruised, and his ancle dislocated, but he had no other hurt; and when he recovered his senses, he fixed his eyes on his mother, and his first words were, "Thank God; but did you get the medicine, mother?” When he fell, Shag had descended after him'; and the affectionate son used what little strength he had left, tied the medicine round the dog's neck, and directed him home with it.

LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.

"MAMMA," said little Annie, "please will you give me two apples for my lunch to-day? I want to give one to Jane Woods."

"Certainly, my dear, but why do you want to give Jane one particularly ?" said her mother.

"Because she took one out of my basket yesterday, and I want her not to be tempted any more; for our teacher told us last Sunday that if we were sincere in praying, 'Lead us not into temptation,' we should not only keep out of the way of evil ourselves, but try to keep others from being tempted; and I think if I give Jane an apple she will not want to take any more."

The apple was given, and a little while after, Jane came to Annie, looking very sad, and said—

"Won't you please take this apple back again; I suppose it is mine now, as you gave it to me, and I want to pay back the one I stole from you yesterday."

Jane never stole again, Annie's kindness saved her.