try to study her mind, and, as far as I can, form a correct knowledge of her character. I then seek to introduce her to some one of the ladies that I think the most proper to be her example and guide, remembering one who said, 'Show me a man's companion, and I will tell you what kind of man he is.' This I did when Miss Illingworth entered my house; and I rejoice to say that she was one whose sojourn with me I can always dwell upon with pleasure. Although amiable and lovely, for some time I did not believe that she was a child of God, or enjoyed religion; but we had, at that time, in the house, a truly praying band; and after a while she too joined in pleading for the great salvation, From what I now remember, I believe her sorrow for sin was very deep. She seemed to feel that, as a child of praying parents, her responsibilities were very great. By-and-by, from being one of the followers, she became one of the leaders of the prayer-meeting, and having 'obtained mercy' through the blood of her Saviour, her inquiry was, 'What shall I render to the Lord for all his mercies?' and her willing heart responded 'Here, Lord, I give myself away, 'Tis all that I can do.' After many interviews with our minister, she was admitted into the church, with several others, by baptism, on the first sabbath in December, 1850, and while she continued with us, we always admired her for her lovely consistency of character.' The return of a daughter from school forms a kind of era in the history of the family of which she is a member. Her influence for good or for evil is necessarily great. Parents, and brothers, and sisters, and servants too, can bear witness to the joy that lighted up their home when Mary again crossed their theshold. Of her absence they had been sensible every day, and when they knew that she was again to be one of them,' each vied with another in the welcome they gave her. Her graceful form, her bright blue eye, her fair complexion, her flowing ringlets, her sweetness of countenance, and the thrilling softness of her voice, were not the only sources of the fascination she exerted. The quietness of her spirit, the meekness of her temper, her assiduous aim at rendering others happy, and her general self-sacrificing disposition, endeared her at home, in the neighbourhood, in the social circle, and in the church at South Parade, where it was my happiness to give her the right hand of fellowship on her removing from the pastoral care of the Rev. R. Holmes, of Rawden, who had forwarded a highly gratifying letter of dismission. During the remaining years of my pastorate at Leeds she adorned the doctrine of God her Saviour' so constantly and so impressively, that with none of my young friends did I shake hands, in April, 1855, with more affection and grateful hope as to her future course than with her. There was a decisiveness about her piety which no one could overlook, which no one could mistake, and which gave to all who witnessed it the deep-souled conviction that she had been with Jesus, and had learned of him.' This is a beautiful trait in a young believer, and stands out in sublime contrast with that lukewarmness of christian profession which is so often evinced when such profession is lightly assumed, and which is so frequently urged as a reason why youth should be discouraged from publicly confessing Christ until they reach a certain age. The writer well remembers when a pious child, thirteen years old, applied for baptism and fellowship to a church in a midland county, a brother rising to ask, 'But, sir, is not Miss too young?' The reply which, as pastor, we gave was in the form of a question; Will you be kind enough to tell us how old Timothy was when he was baptized?' The good man looked perplexed, and, after standing for a little time in confused silence, sat down. We have no doubt he was since, in the eminently consistent deportment of that young sister, who has proved an ornament to her profession, found reason to be chary in again urging, in similar circumstances, a like objection. Were the tone of youthful piety in every case as unmistakable as in her's, and in Mary's, aged christians would more readily than ever be disposed to acknowledge that 'out of the mouths of babes and sucklings God can perfect praise.' Aim, young believer, at your godliness being distinguished by an emphasis that shall cause it to be known and read of all men !'" Such were the opening blossoms of "à life brief but beautiful." We shall refer to the early ripeness of its fruit, and its transplantation to a higher and holier region, in another notice. EMMA JEAN EDWARDS, The youngest child of Mr. Thomas Edwards, was born at Castle Hall, near Milford, Pembrokeshire, on the last day in October, 1838. She was always a delicate child, and early manifested a love to divine things. Her earliest religious impressions were connected with the baptist sabbath school at Bethel, Pembroke Dock. She was much attached to the superintendent, Mr. G. H. Davies; and said she should never forget the tears with which he spoke to her and others on Divine subjects. At the close of 1848 our young friend followed her father and family to Devonport. In April, 1854, she became the subject of deep spiritual anxiety, and having obtained peace through believing, was baptized and added to the church in Morice Square, Devonport, by Mr. Overbury. She then became a teacher in the sabbath school for some time, and delighted in her work until interrupted by ill health. For two years her friends were anxious about her, but since last winter there was an evident breaking up of her constitution. She entertained no hope of her recovery, but meekly resigned herself into the hands of her Heavenly Father. She was a lovely christian; she suffered much without a murmur-resting her soul on Jesus. She felt him to be very near to her, and sweetly fell asleep with His name on her lips, on Tuesday, Nov. 9th. 1858. GEORGE COPLEY. It has often been remarked, and very properly too, that we shall never know all the good which has been done by pious mothers in families, and pious teachers in schools, in teaching the little ones to know and love the Saviour-but we shall know more about this, we hope, in heaven. But pious parents and teachers need encouragement, and every little fact of a cheering kind ought to be mentioned. A Friend has sent us a few incidents in the brief life of a little boy at Broughton, near Melton Mowbray; who, at four years of age, was sent to the baptist sabbath school in that village, and continued to attend for nearly seven years, that is, until the spring of 1858, when he was laid aside by illness. From this he recovered, but was again attacked with water on the brain, of which disease he died on Nov. 1, 1858, aged eleven years. This little boy was punctual in coming to school, and though he only seemed to be a dull scholar with his lessons, he would listen and smile as if pleased when the teacher talked to the class about Jesus Christ, and his love to little children. Two days before he died he sent for his teacher, who talked to him of Jesus, and heaven, and its glories. When he had done George said, now sing; and the Teacher gently sung— "Little children will be there, Who have sought the Lord by prayer, From every sabbath school Oh, that will be joyful!" in which the little sufferer joined as well as he could. After this he said, now please sing "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child; Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to Thee." At the close of the singing the happy boy exclaimed, "Bless the Lord, O my soul! Glory be to God on high!" The teacher kneeled down and prayed for him, and then the grateful child desired to be lifted up that he might have one more look at his teacher. Oh, was not that a joyful reward! They meet no more on earth; but a greater joy remains for them when teacher and scholar meet again before the throne! Poets say that "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever." But earth's beauties fade and die. Only of the soul can this be truly said A soul redeemed is a joy for ever! So let all teachers of the young be encouraged to bring the little ones to Jesus. Take heart, fellow teacher, and take up the strain, CONSECRATION OF A YOUNG HEBREW. THE paragraph which follows is from the Jewish Chronicle. We hope our young friends will notice it. Here is a young Hebrew voluntarily, and "of his own free will," professing his faith in Moses and the Prophets, and his hope of a Messiah yet to come. The scene must have been of an interesting, but melancholy character. The young Hebrew looks not on Him whom his fathers pierced as the atoning sacrifice for sin! Let our young readers be thankful that no such vail is before their eyes; they can look to Jesus for salvation; and happy will they be if now, of their own accord, they consecrate themselves to Him in early life : "Baron Rothschild's Youngest Son.-A spectacle of more than usual interest, even in its ordinary aspect, but fraught with still greater significance when deeply pondered, was lately presented to the congregation assembled at the Great Synagogue, Duke's-place. One who is the embodiment of what wealth and station can command, the representative of a recent triumph of enlightened liberality over ages of prejudice and intolerance, the Baron Lionel de Rothschild, surrounded by all nearest and dearest to him, came to proclaim his fealty to the hallowed institntions of his fathers, and to bring his third and youngest son, thirteen years of age, as a claimant of his own free will for admission as a responsible member of the synagogue. The ceremonial, sometimes called from analogy confirmatio n, was a most impressive one." DYING THOUGHTS. Dictated to his brother by a Young Christian during his last illness, at a time when some hope was indulged of recovery. To glory now, or back a little longer To earth again? good Lord decide for me. Now halt my steps on Jordan's nearer verge, Or stray awhile upon this earthly shore. Thy will be done: and not my wavering will, When night, the terror of the weak, draws nigh, And weary wish for morn; but from on high, Comes comfort in the words, "no night is there." When morn at last relieves my longing sight, Longer awhile to live in earth's bright day. Ah! earth is fair, those hills, that peopled plain, Memory brings back before my thirsty sense Clear bubbling springs where cooling breezes play; And murmuring brooks and mountain streams that dance |