USEFUL ADVICE.

THE famous Marshal Turenne, who was a good man as well as a great general, used to say he was not more obliged to any of his friends than to one who had given him, at his first setting out in life, the following piece of advice:66 When you have made a false step, spend not a moment in vexing yourself and moaning over it, but consider how it may be best repaired, and instantly set about it."

PIOUS RESIGNATION.

AN aged and pious lady, who lost the use of her arm by a fall in winter, said to a friend, smiling, that she had just been considering the circumstances of her acquaintance, but had not been able to fix upon one who could sustain such a loss with less inconvenience than she could; wherefore she admired the Lord's wisdom and goodness in appointing that affliction to her, and not to them.

Juvenile Biography.

"IN Rama was there a voice heard, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted because they are not." Let the bereaved mother weep, her children, the dear objects of her love, are not." Judge her not too harshly if she refuse to be comforted, the void is an aching one; give to bereft Rachel credit for being a mother with natural affection, and for all her persistent sorrow, and the profuse gushing of her tears, apology is made, and you know that "Jesus wept." So wept Mrs. Sarah Brown, after the death of her little fair and blue-eyed child. Mary Elizabeth

was the first-born of her dear children, and the first of them that fell under the rule of death. All who had observed her ways were wont to say, "She was too good and too sharp to be long in this world." Why do people say so? Where love of children forms considerably the parents' home-happiness, with what trembling do they rejoice when one or more exhibit brilliant parts, while therewith is associated the notion that such glowing day-spring is presage of early death. But do all good children die? Do only the wicked live? The witness of fact is, many children of sweet and pious spirit live; all such do not die. Where death naturally occurs there is some physical cause of it, and then 'tis better in passive faith to bow to the rule Divine, for what God does is best. The parents of Mary Elizabeth say, from infancy she was a delicate child. Herein is the physical circumstance which, when serious illness occurred, resulted in a fatal issue. For her child, when an infant, the mother had prayed "that if she lived she might be made useful in doing much good, but if God saw it fit or best, rather than she should grow up in sin and lose her soul at last, he would take her while she was young." In the future, when sad thoughts of this bereavement shall recur, the reflection that God was attentive to the mother's pious prayer, and took the child from the evil to come, shall gild it as with the touch of a sunbeam, and shall form motive of attachment to the dear Saviour, who has gathered the lamb to his bosom. From their residence to our chapel at Pool Head, a place in this, the Prees Green circuit, is half a mile; there, soon as she could intelligibly talk she attended and became a very interesting scholar. To her also the public religious services were a delight. To these she has gone though but a child, sometimes quite alone, and the road lonely and long (only three houses in the half mile between home and chapel), by nothing daunted, and by no discouragement deterred. Butler's Bank, a place of good age and high repute in this circuit, is the place where reside her grandparents; their name is Tudor. On a visit here her grandmother gave her

a small hymn book; she could not read, but at chapel when the worship of God was proceeding she used this book, and none appeared more devout than she, and also to the ministry of the pulpit none were more attentive. Is the preacher energetic? She reports of him that, "That was a good preacher." But it is not of manner that she takes mental note alone, but of matter also, for she repeats of the sermon much when at home. Thus in the services of the sanctuary was early fostered the germ of devotional piety, whose full bloom is before the throne of God, in his temple. When about three years of age she heard recited, at a Sunday-school anniversary, a piece respecting an orphan. child. Much affected by it, she, when at home, inquiringly reflected, "Why did not the Lord fetch the little girl to heaven before she was so starved and hungry? Or why did he not send her to our house? we would have given her something." Thus early in her heart was felt that throb whose vital pulse is from the midst of the throne of God; benevolence divine. As an artist has an eye to works of the pencil, and the sculptor to those of the chisel, as the farmer has his interest elicited by the sight of fields in culture and of grain in garner, and travellers can find that of which they are in search, the inside genius of each giving clearness and index to his peculiar vision, so was it with Mary Elizabeth with respect to religion. Yes, religion it was, which in her had ready echo to its voice; it was its touch which in her soul awoke therein sweetest and gladdest music. At her Grandfather Tudor's she had heard read in the Christian Messenger "Poor Tom's Song," who said, "I'll sing you a song when I die." She particularly observed the number and the place, and at times, when visitors came, if their conversation was ordinary talk she took no notice of them, but if religious, then she felt association with, and exhibited interest in them; waiting opportunity, she has taken the periodical from the drawer, and opening it at the article referred to, she would place it before the visitors as something specially interesting.

On one occasion a pious young woman called upon her grandmother, and before departing proposed to have a word of prayer." Subsequently, when Mrs. Tudor was occupied in some household duties, Mary Elizabeth made suggestion thus: "The lady said, 'let us have a word of prayer,' and, grandmother, let us have a word of prayer." She replied: "But I am busy now." "Never mind," said the child; "let us have a word of prayer first and do the work after;" and at once grandmother and grandchild then and often after, at the child's request, had a word of prayer. The book of her choice was the Bible: this she had selected from among other books, and seated with it on her knees, has talked of death, of heaven, and of the Lord, as though she were reading therein. "Mother," she has occasionally asked, "how will the Lord fetch me up to heaven ? it is high up, how will he get me there ?" With evident burdened anxiety she was troubled with this question. Once, when her grandfather was on a visit to her parents, she pressed the question on his attention, and it was his happiness to set the dear child's mind at rest; he said, "The Lord will fetch us, if it is in a chariot of fire." After this, she asked the question no more, but in conversation with her little brother, would tell him, with grave assurance, that "the Lord will fetch us up to heaven, if it is in a chariot of fire." Solemn thoughts of death and heavenly anticipations oft pervaded the child's spirit, and prompted questions and conversation; they were presentiments of her approaching end, like the tide of the sea, which, flowing up the river's channel, takes the river with its ebb to the bosom of the boundless ocean, that mirror of eternity. "Mother," she has asked, “why don't you take me to grandfather's; then if I die there I should be buried in the chapel-yard, by Aunt Mary, and then grandmother would see my grave every Sunday." "But that would not be seeing you." "No, but it would be my grave." That her honoured grandmother would see her grave was a thought consoling in its anticipation to the child, and greatly reconciling her to the occupancy of that

narrow house-the grave, shading off its darkness by a softening ray of hope, in which the childish heart had mingled novel joy. Only a few weeks before she was taken ill, having repeated her usual prayers, she said, "Mother, I want to say more than "Our Father" and "Gentle Jesus;" I want to say, "Keep me from sin, and take me to heaven when I die." Often, also, at and from this time, she made home musical with singing a hymn whose burden is,

"This world is all a wilderness,

This world is not my home."

(To be continued.)

Anniversaries.

ELLESMORE PORT (CHESTER CIRCUIT), PRIMITIVE METHODIST SABBATH SCHOOL.-The anniversary services of this school were held on Lord's-day, September 13th, 1868, when three sermons were preached to thronged congregations by Mr. J. Yates (Wesleyan), of Liverpool. Suitable recitations were given, and suitable hymns sung by the scholars at each of the services. On Monday, September 14th, the teachers and scholars, as is customary, went in procession through this and one or two of the neighbouring villages. On their return, they set down to a tea which was provided for them in the chapel. After tea a public meeting was held in the chapel, presided over by Mr. J. Thomason. Addresses were given by Mr. Roscoe (superintendent of the school) and by Mr. J. Yates. Dialogues and recitations were given by both teachers and scholars, and hymns and anthems were sung by the choir. A report was read by the writer, which showed an increase in the number of scholars and of the funds of the school. The proceeds of this year's anniversary consider