to spend a comfortable afternoon, she complied with the invitation. The word then preached came home to her soul. It was the power of God unto salvation. During the week that followed, she removed from the town to a distance, and there, although she had not been accustomed to attend a place of worship, one of her first enquiries on arriving at her new home was for a Baptist chapel. Following the directions of her friends, she found it out, and henceforth attended there regularly. The minister noticed her, and from her conversation found out that she was enquiring the way to Zion. After a while, she was invited to join the church; and her religious experience informed the members that she was first led to reflection, and then to repeutance, and, finally, to saving faith in the merits of the dear Redeemer, through the incident and result of the lost key.

From her first admission into the church she walked worthy of her holy calling. Having been made a partaker of divine grace herself, of course she was anxious respecting her son's salvation. Nor did she labour in vain. He chose his mother's God as his friend and portion for ever. He believed in Jesus Christ as his Saviour. He repented with a repentance that needed not to be repented of. And before he was far advanced into his teens, he professed faith in the Saviour, and was baptized into his name. His mother not long ago died, strong in faith and rejoicing in her Redeemer; and he himself is now a minister of reconciliation. And all this as the result of the lost key! Yes, we say of the lost key. If the key of the chapel had not been lost, the congregation would not have adjourned to Mr. Dawson's kitchen; the elder widow would not have met the younger; the younger would not have been invited to the meeting; she would not have heard the words which proved to be the salvation of her soul; neither would she have been anxious respecting the salvation of her son. Therefore, reader, "in the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good."

THE LOST WAY.

We have heard of one who, finding the restraints of home irksome, and the persuasions of evil companions irresistible,

abruptly left his dearest friends, and, wandering far away, was unheard of for years. All efforts to discover him were unavailing, no trace could be found, and his name became in time associated only with pain and regret.

It was thought the young man might have gone to sea and found a watery grave, or had fallen into wicked hands, or in an evil hour had destroyed himself. But the wanderer was not dead; after years of poverty, misfortune, and wretchedness, he found himself at the close of a wintry day near the residence of one of his early friends. Doubtful of the reception that he might meet, and unwilling to present himself as a guest where he might be regarded as an intruder, he entered the barn door, and asked the servant whom he found there to call his master. In a few moments the man returned with a request that the stranger should go to the house.

He declined the invitation, and again word was taken to the master of the house that some one wished to see him in the barn. This time the messenger was successful. As the gentleman entered and cast a searching glance upon the stranger, but without a single gleam of recognition, the heart-broken man sobbed aloud, and, seizing his hand, exclaimed, Oh, my friend, I have lost my way in the world!" Alas! we thought as we heard this incident, how many travellers on life's journey, rejecting the only sure guide, have lost their way irrecoverably!

We remember one who left his home in early youth, to go forth into the world to seek for himself a name and fortune. Around the fireside of his parental roof clustered the tenderest ties and most endearing associations. There were the parents who committed him in prayer to the keeping of a heavenly Father, and there brothers and sisters who wept as they parted from him. There, too, his mother, as she said her last good-bye, placed in his hand a chart and compass-the Word of God-by which she bade him ever to direct his steps. It had been her own unfailing guide through her long pilgrimage, and now she commended it to him.

Thus furnished he went forth into the world, and for a time his steps were in the narrow way, while continually he heard a voice on the right hand and on the left saying, "This is the way; walk ye in it."

Years passed on, and in the midst of

strangers and the busy strife and turmoil of life, his mother's gift was laid aside. He now regarded it as very good for the inmates of that quiet home, but of no use to one who had to contend with the temptations and trials of life. For him there was needed a deeper philosophy, and a wisdom which in the pride of intellect he fancied could be gained from his own observation and experience.

Long since, the voices that had once been music to his ear were hushed in death. The mother whom he loved, who had with latest breath offered up earnest prayer for him, was now at rest in the quiet churchyard; his father with silver hair and bent form had followed her, and the home of his childhood was deserted. The world had yielded to him its honours, and the wealth of learning and wisdom which he had gathered had given him the fame he coveted. But these brought him no lasting happiness,-old age had arrived, he could no longer take an active part in the pursuits that once engrossed him, and weakness and infirmity compelled him to seek the solitude of his own room. Word and weary, he sat down to think of death. It was near him, might come to him any day, and what would be after that? The Bible the long-neglected Bible-lay upon his table. He had often read its pages to refute them by his own exalted reason, and

now it had no comfort to offer him,-no charm to attract him.

Death had taken from him those who were once the light of his eyes, and whose presence cheered his now comfortless dwelling.

In his old age he sat alone. Memory was busy; for it had not, like his bodily strength, deserted him, and he thought of the time hen his heart was young and hopeful,hen his mother's hand was upon his head, and her blessing fell upon his heart as dew upon the grateful flowers. He traced his devious course step by step, as year by year he had wandered farther and farther from the path of truth and duty. Then he compared the peaceful, hope-sustained death-bed of his mother, and the calm, unclouded evening of his father's life, with his own joyless and hopeless age, and he wept aloud. Poor old man! what to him now were the honours he had once so eagerly desired? what the stores of learning and the researches of science? Could they purchase happiness and a hope of heaven for him? The lessons he had been taught in childhood rose up to answer, No; and in his soul he was convinced, however reluctantly he acknowledged it even to himself, that the Bible was true, that his whole long life was wrong, and that he had lost his way in the world!

ZAPHNATH PAANRAH; OR, THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH, VIEWED IN CONNEXION WITH EGYPTIAN ANTIQUITIES, AND THE CUSTOMS OF THE TIMES IN WHICH HE LIVED. By the REV. THORNLEY SMITH. Pp. 267. London: William Freeman.

Such a book as this has long been wanted, and we are grateful to Mr. Smith for supplying it.

There has, perhaps, been no period in the history of the church when there has been such frequent reference as of late years to the testimony of antiquity; and there has been no period in which that testimony has been more needed to confirm the truth of the Bible. Accordingly, the confirmations of Bible history found in antiquity have been greater during late years than ever. Nineveh and Babylon have opened up their long buried secrets to corroborate the sacred narrative. Egypt too has spoken in her strange tongue. But

while the voices of the former, Nineveh and Babylon, have found numbers of interpreters who have adapted themselves to all classes and all capacities, Egypt's testimony has been heard, for the most part, by scholars only. For Hengstenberg, Havernick, Osburn, and others, have given the results of their reading and researches in books far too learned and too expensive for the mass of even educated persons. And there was yet wanted, therefore, a book which should give the results of their researches, in a style adapted to the capacities of the unlearned, who were yet interested in such enquiries. Mr. Thornley Smith has supplied this want. He has used the materials furnished to his hand, and has woven them into an interesting and connected narrative, with all the results of learning and not much parade of it. The foundation of the work is the Life of Joseph, but much light

is thrown, in the course of the narrative, upon Egyptian antiquities generally. The work will be invaluable to Sunday school teachers and intelligent young persons, to whom we commend it for careful and thoughtful reading.

THE MESSAGE OF CHRISTIANITY: A BOOK FOR THE BUSY. BY WILLIAM LANDELS, Minister of Regent's Park Chapel. Second Edition. Pp. 165. London: James Nisbet and Co.

THE GOSPEL IN VARIOUS ASPECTS: A BOOK FOR THE ANXIOUS. Seven Lectures by the REV. WILLIAM LANDSLS, Minister of Regent's Park Chapel. London: James Nisbet and Co.

We had the gratification of recommending the former of these works to our readers, on the appearance of the first edition ; we have equal pleasure in commending it now, and in giving a similar commendation to Mr. Landels's more recent production. They are both characterised by singular clearness of thought and expression, and by that beauty of illustration which is sure to render them both popular and useful: they include also the most distinct declarations of gospel truth, adapted in form to meet the classes for whom they are respectively intended. "The Message of Christianity " is a book for the Busy, and "The Gospel in Various Aspects" is a book for the Anxious: to the busy and the anxious we earnestly commend them, trusting that the author's desire regarding these little works may be fulfilled, and that both from the pulpit and the press he may be permitted during many years to spread abroad, with much acceptance and success, the TRUTH to which he has devoted himself.

THE EARLY AND THE LATTER RAIN. By the REV. JAMES SMITH. Pp.392. Halifax: Milner and Sowerby,

No words of ours are necessary to commend any of Mr. Smith's writings to the readers of "The Church." We may therefore content ourselves, with saying that this volume is replete with gospel truth, vigorously and tersely expressed, and is in all respects equal to the author's other works. It should be added that the Halifax publishers have done their part well, and

Mr. Pike's writings have been before the public so many years, and have had such an extensive circulation, that it would be a work of supererogation to write any lengthened notice of those whose titles are given above. Their character and influence are moreover beyond all praise. The day of judgment alone will reveal how many hearts they have impressed in early life with the importance of religion, and guided to the Saviour. The beautiful editions of them now before us are admirably adapted for reward books and gifts of friendship. They are superior to any we have before

seen.

THE LAST DAY: A MINISTER'S DREAM. By the REV. P. H. CORNFORD. Pp. 16. London: Houlston and Stoneman.

The substance of this little work appeared originally in our pages; it could be but ex- ! pected, therefore, that we should commend it now. It is an interesting and impressive narrative, so interesting that we should deem it partly at least imaginative, if we were not assured that it is strictly true. Its teaching is directly opposed to those views of God's character and government which refuse to recognise the necessity of human effort in the work of salvation. Against those views it furnishes a solemn protest and warning; and we should rejo'ce if all who hold those views could be induced to read it. In many churches that we know, no better service could be done, than by the purchase and circulation of a few copies of this little narrative.

ANNE AND PATTY.

A STORY FOR A RAINY DAY. "It rains, and it rains, and it keeps raining. I don't believe it will ever stop!" exclaimed little Anne Wells. She had been looking out of the window for several minutes, and truly it did "rain, and rain, and keep raining." The sun was shining somewhere, only there was a great grey cloud covering his face, so that Anne could not see him. But she could hear the big drops patter, patter, patter on the roof of the piazza; she could see them pouring down on the window panes, making the street full of little rivers, and washing the rose-bushes and the gravel walks clean. So she ought to have thought how much good the rain was doing, and not have let a cloud come over her face more unpleasant than that which hid the sun.

Anne's little sister, Patty, was sewing some patchwork. When she heard Anne's remark, she looked up, and said very gravely,

"Oh, Anne, you don't believe so; you know it will stop raining some time !"

"No, I don't know so," replied Anne. "It rained on Sunday, and it rained yesterday, and now it rains to-day, and I don't believe it will ever stop."

"But," persisted Patty, "what does the Bible say?"

"The Bible!" said Anne, turning full round to Patty; "the Bible! I should think it does not say anything about the rain."

"Why, Anne Wells," cried Patty, opening wide her blue eyes, "you, a great girl, nine years old, and don't know the Bible any better than that, and I am only six !" "Oh, Patty, that is a story, for I am not nine years old!"

46 Yes, you are nine years old, for I heard mamma say so this morning."

"No, Patty."

"Yes, when she wanted you to wipe the dishes, she said you were old enough to learn, because you were nine years old." "No, Patty, she did not. She said I was in my ninth year,"

66 Well, what is the difference?"

"Oh, there is a great difference, because, though I am in my ninth year, I am only eight years old. I shall keep being eight till I am finished, and then I shall be nine, but I shall be in my tenth year. I don't

quite understand it all exactly, but it is so I know, because Jack told me."

Patty thought about it with all her might for about a minute, and then she came to the conclusion that if Anne did not under- . stand it thoroughly, she could not at all, so she went back to her patchwork and her question.

"But, Anne, don't you know the Bible does say something about the rain ?"

"I know," said Anne, "that Elijah did not want it to rain, and he prayed not to have it, and it didn't; and then he wanted it to rain, and prayed for it, and so God let it rain; but that does not say anything about the rain."

"No," said Patty, "I don't mean that; but I can think of something else; can't you ?"

"And it rained when the wind blew so hard, it knocked a house down on the beach, and another one it could not, because it was stronger."

"I don't know about that," said Patty, slowly; but guess again."

"And about the flood?"

"Yes, that is it! you know the flood, and the dove, and the ark, and the rainbow. Don't you remember ?"

"Well, I don't see how that will make it stop raining to-night."

"Oh, no, not to-night; but you said never; and you know it will stop some time, won't it, mamma?" for her mamma just then entered the room.

"What makes you think so, my dear?" asked her mother.

"Because seed-time and harvest,-don't you remember that verse,-will be always; and if it keeps raining there can't be any seed-time and harvest, can there ?"

Her mother, smiling, told Patty she was quite right, and then she wanted Anne to hold a skein of silk for her to wind.. Anne obeyed, but she did not feel very happy, and the silk would twist round her fingers, and slip off where she did not wish it, and become tangled. Then she wondered why silk did not come all wound; and oh, dear, she never did see silk so snarly! and when would it stop raining? and what good did the rain do, so much of it? To be sure we want a little rain to water the ground, and make the corn and grass grow, and the cherry-trees, and the flowers; but it would

be a great deal better to have one day of rain, and then three or four pleasant days, and so on, than to have the rain come all at once.

The next morning, as soon as Anne awoke, she jumped out of bed, and ran to the window, to see if it still "kept raining." As she threw open the blind, it crashed against the trees, and sent a shower of cold glittering drops down upon her arms; but she did not mind it, for the sun came pouring in upon her, and oh, how bright and beautiful it was! The blades of grass, the green leaves, and the petals of the delicate flowers, were still bending under the weight of the heavy rain-drops; the roof of the piazza was still all black and damp; but there was not a cloud to be seen in the sky.

"Patty, Patty," she cried, "do come."

Patty leaped up, and then, catching a glimpse of their father, they both climbed out on the piazza and patted along with their little bare feet.

"Bo-peep!" cried Patty, leaning over the railing.

Her papa saw her white night - gown gleaming through the leaves, and cried, "Bo-peep, little puss! Go in this moment, you will take cold."

"Halloo, up there," shouted Jack, just rushing in from the orchard; "who wants to take a sail with me after breakfast?"

"I do, I do!" cried they both at once. "Well, fly round then, stir about, and get ready. It is almost breakfast time now."

Willing hearts make nimble fingers, and in a very short time Patty was half way down stairs, when Anne called to her, "Oh, Patty, you have not said your prayers."

"Dear me, no," cried Patty, stopping short, "I forgot." She hesitated a moment. "I think I will say them after breakfast just for once, it will do quite as well. No, I would better say them now; but I do want to ask Jack about the sail. Anne," she called out, "I said a great long prayer last night, don't you think it will do for to-day?"

"Oh, no," said Anne, "you only prayed last night to last till this morning, and now you must pray again to last till to-night. Perhaps if you should go to sail without saying your prayers, the boat would upset, and you would be drowned."

This quite frightened Patty, and she came

back very quickly and knelt down before her little chair; but though she shut her eyes and folded her hands, she did not begin to pray. After a few moments she opened her eyes again, and said, "But, Anne, if I pray because I am afraid I shall be drowned, I don't believe God will hear me."

"No, indeed," replied Anne, "but you must not pray for that. You can thank God for such a clear morning, and to hear the birds sing, and because we are going to have a sail. I am sure I shall thank Him ever so much."

Then Patty shut her eyes again, and repeated "Our Father," very slowly, and then she prayed to God in her own words, and I think God heard her, because she meant what she said, and did not mock Him, by thinking about her play all the time, as I am afraid little girls, and great girls too, sometimes do. When, at last, she went down stairs, she felt far happier than she would if she had not thanked God for all his love to her.

Anne and Patty were both very anxious to hear about the sail, but when they questioned Jack, he only buttoned up his jacket very pompously, and said, "The sequel will show;" so they were no wiser than before, for neither of them knew what a "sequel" was, though Patty guessed it must be a kind of boat.

After breakfast they put on their bonnets, and Jack took them round to an orchard at some distance from the house; and what do you think they saw there? Why, the very place where they had often played, and gathered apples, and peaches, and pears, was all covered with water; so that there was a real pond, and the trees seemed to be growing out of it. The girls screamed with delight and surprise.

In

"Is that where we are going to sail ?" they cried. Just then they saw their cousin Albert coming from behind a great tree in the strangest-looking boat. fact, it seemed more like a long box than like a boat, and Albert managed to work it forward by tugging might and main at a long pole which he carried in his hand.

"Boat ahoy!" cried Jack. "Hard-astarboard." Jack had heard sailors talk, and he used all the phrases he could remember, without much knowledge of their meaning; but as his sisters knew still less than himself it was all the same. When the boat came close to the shore,