ligious truths, and along with the characteristic language would exhale its characteristic doctrines."

The loving kindness of the Lord through Jesus Christ is peculiarly impressive, as set forth by Christmas Evans, the great Welsh preacher in one of his wonderful addresses:

"Should I try to represent in a figure the condition of man as a sinner and his means of recovery through Jesus Christ, I should put it in this way: Suppose a large graveyard, enclosed by a high wall, with one entrance, an iron gate fast locked. Within are tens of thousands of human beings, all bending toward the grave. There is no balm in Israel, no physician near, they must all perish. While man was in this condition an angel stood at the gate saying, 'Oh, that I might enter! I would bind up their wounds, relieve their sorrows, save their souls.' An embassy of heavenly beings passing overhead noticing the situation, said, 'Can you see that suffering, and not pity?' 'Ah,' was the reply, 'I can see, I can pity, but I cannot relieve. Justice has barred the gate against me.' At this moment Justice himself appeared, as if watching the gate. "Why will you not let her in?' Justice replied: 'My law has been broken and they must die or someone for them.' Then appeared one like unto the Son of God and asked Justice his demands. I must have sickness for their health, ignominy for their honor, death for their life. Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins.' 'I accept the terms,' said Jesus, 'on me be the wrong.' 'When will you perform the promise?' asked Justice. 'Four thousand years hence on Calvary I will perform it in my own person,' said Jesus. The deed was prepared and signed in presence of the angels of God and the messenger entered preaching salvation through Christ. When the 4,000 years had expired Justice appeared with the deed on Calvary. 'Where is Jesus?' he asked. 'Behold him at the foot of the hill bearing his cross." When Jesus arrived Justice presented the bond, saying, "This is the day and hour.' Jesus took the bond, and nailing it to his

cross, exclaimed, 'It is finished!' And there was darkness over the whole heavens, but glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will to men.

THE following fine hymn was written by Timothy Dwight, sometime chaplain in the Continental army, and afterward president of Yale college:

I love thy kingdom, Lord,

The house of thine abode,

The church our blest Redeemer bought
With his own precious blood.

I love thy church, O God!

Her walls before thee stand,
Dear as the apple of thine eye,
And graven on thine hand.

For her my tears shall fall,

For her my prayers ascend;
To her my cares and toils be given,
Till toils and cares shall end.

Beyond my highest joy

I prize her heavenly ways,

Her sweet communion, solemn vows,
Her hymns of love and praise.

Sure as thy truth shall last,

To Zion shall be given

The brightest glories earth can yield,
And brighter bliss of heaven.

The partaking of the eucharist or communion celebrated by all Christian churches is kept by Christ's command-is in remembrance of him and in anticipation of his second adventthe elements used being bread and wine. Under the Old Testament dispensation the sacrifices and oblations used in worship were flesh, bread and wine-first fruits.

Charles II. was once in consultation upon state matters with the earl of Rochester, the queen, chaplain and others when the king said: "Let us unbend our minds and take a generous glass of wine, which, as the scripture saith, cheers the heart of both God and man. The queen thought there was no such scripture and the chaplain agreed with her. Rochester, suspecting the king was right, asked that David, the Scotch cook, who always carried his Bible with him, be called. David appeared and said at once that it was from the parable of the trees appointing a king, and read Judges ix., 13: "And the vine said: 'Shall I leave my wine which cheereth God and man, to be promoted over the trees?'" Rochester asked the doctor of divinity to explain the text, but he was mute. Rochester then applied to David, who immediately said: "How much wine cheereth man your lordship well knows; and that it cheereth God I beg leave to say that under the Old Testament there were meat offerings and drink offerings, the latter consisting of wine, as being typical of the blood of the mediator, which by a metaphor was said to cheer God, as he was well pleased with the way of salvation he had appointed, whereby his justice was satisfied, his law fulfilled; his mercy reigned; his grace triumphed, all his perfections harmonized; the sinner was saved and God in Christ glorified."

The king was astonished, the queen shed tears, the chaplain looked confounded, and Rochester gravely suggested that the cook and the chaplain exchange places.

JAMES MONTGOMERY was the son of a Moravian minis

ter. He was called "The Sheffield Poet," and was editor of the Sheffield Iris. He wrote many fine hymns, though perhaps the best known, most admired and most inspiring is the following-not as much used as formerly, for the writer looked over a dozen books without finding it. The hymn is based upon the 100th Psalm:

Be joyful in God, all ye lands of the earth,

O, serve him with gladness and fear;
Exult in his presence with music and mirth,
With love and devotion draw near.

Jehovah is God and Jehovah alone
Creator and ruler o'er all;

And we are his people; his scepter we own;
His sheep and we follow his call.

O, enter his gates with thanksgiving and song,
Your vows in his temple proclaim;

His praise in melodious accordance prolong,
And bless his adorable name.

For good is the Lord, inexpressibly good,
And we are the work of his hand;
His mercy and truth from eternity stood

And shall to eternity stand.

Life with all it yields of joy or woe, is just our chance of the prize of learning love

"Love divine all love excelling

Joy of heaven to earth come down."

"Pollyanna," by Eleanor Hodgman Porter, is one of the most delightfully interesting and suggestive books ever published. It all revolves about the thought that in every condition of life there is something to be glad about. Though you lose the use of your limbs by paralysis, you may still be glad that you had once enjoyed their freedom.

A deaf friend of the writer was attending the funeral of a relative, whose sister was blind. They were consigned to the same carriage; when she learned he was deaf she bemoaned his affliction, saying, “Ah, me! How I rejoice that I am blind rather than deaf! What a terrible thing never to hear our friends voices, nor music, nor all sounds of joy! I pity you sincerely!" Now he had secretly been pitying her, that she could not see, and rejoicing that he was deaf rather than blind. But herein again do we see God's mercy, in making us contented with our own lot as we reflect that no matter how badly off we are, it might have been worse.

John Carmichael, in "Bonnie Brier Bush," (Copyright 1896 by Dodd, Mead & Company) had worked out a great sermon and on Friday afternoon told his aunt that "it was due to himself to state the present position of theological thought, and that he might have to quote once or twice from Ewalt."

His saintly aunt knew "he wad do a' richt," but went on to speak of his last interview with his mother, who had died five years before. She was on her death bed and her voice failing fast. "I canna' see ye noo, John, but I know yir there and I've just one wish. If God calls ye to the ministry, ye'll no refuse, and the first day ye preach in yir ain kirk speak a gude word for Jesus Christ, an' John, I'll hear ye that day, though ye'll no see me, and I'll be satisfied." And now the day had come. The minister rose hastily and went to the door, but in passing gave his aunt a look which she understood. Reaching his room, the great theological sermon was thrust between the bars of the grate—and he preached from the text, "Come * * and I will give you rest.”

unto me

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From the lowest depth, there is a path to the loftiest height "Be glad in the Lord and rejoice ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye that are upright in heart."

It always seems to the writer that the closing singing after sermons upon such texts should be this royal, high sounding,