prayers in the church, or longer prayers in the school;" but the question is rather this: whether it is not desirable to bring them as early as possible to the place where Jesus passes by; to throw them into the ordinances of his own appointing, in the hope that they may hear his voice betimes in the morning of their years, and seek Him early, who has promised to be found of him.

This, after all, is the question worth canvassing. Not what the children can do for God, but what God can and will do for the little children. We bring the children as early as possible to Christ in baptism; let us act on the same principle, and bring them to him in his temple worship. They may not take their Hosanna, nor prostrate themselves in a lowly and becoming reverence, or awe; but Christ may notice them there; he who said, "suffer the little children to come to me, and forbid them not." And it may be the day of his power, when he will impart the baptism of the Spirit by the power of his word, and thus early bring them under the training of his grace to witness a good confession when called upon publicly to take upon themselves their sponsors' engage. ments on their behalf.

And who can tell the extent to which an expression in the prayers, or the text of the sermon, or some part of the sermon, has been blest? I can only say for myself, that my earliest recollection of any gracious impression on my own mind was from a sermon I heard in our parish church when I was scarcely five years old. My tender mind was then powerfully imbued with the influence of one single text from the pulpit, of which, I believe, it has never through life entirely lost the savour: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." (Isaiah i. 18.)

Then let the little children be brought to Christ in his temple. They may come in much infirmity and feebleness of intellect or desire, but Christ is there to bless them, to take them in the arms of his mercy, to speak to them through his word, and to turn even their little feet into the way of his testimonies.

W.

SHOPMEN IN LONDON.

It is very true that good never stands alone. Its name may well be called legion. Wherever it is really at work, it ramifies into various directions, never contemplated at the outset.

It is impossible not to witness the benevolent efforts which are now making in London, on behalf of the Drapers' Shopmen, and Milliners, &c., without feelings of the deepest interest. On the common ground of humanity only, we cannot but wish them every possible success. As no one knows the extent to which human life is sacrificed to the thoughtlessness or cupidity of employers, I trust the present investigations will be extended to other branches of trade. A medical man gave me lately some fearful particulars of what he witnessed in St. Thomas' and Guy's Hospitals. Numbers of young women are brought in there in a state of grievous disease, from the long hours in a standing position in publichouses and gin-palaces; and numbers whose sight is ruined by the lining of hats the strongest gas-light being used by day and night for the accurate stitches required. I am told, but really the fact is too astounding to be easily believed, that it is calculated that 40 or 50 women go blind every year in the establishment of Messrs. Christie, the hatters, alone. I hope this may be above the mark, but I had it on good authority. But to come to my point; I am speaking of the expansive character of good, and I have been much struck with the bearing of the present humane movement in London, on Sundayschools. It is calculated that there are from 15 to 20,000 young persons whose hard lot it is sought to alleviate. Now, of these how many have gone up from the country, where they have had the benefit of Sundayschool instruction, and then have become teachers themselves: and, pleased and thankful to be so employed, how gladly would they pursue their labour of love in their new position of life. How many too, out of such an immense number, are really the faithful servants and followers of Christ; and with his love in their hearts, would fain feed his lambs and promote his glory. But

the system under which they are working entirely precludes the effort. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. It must be hard work in many cases, even with the most ardent longing of soul, to get regularly to the house of God. The confinement and labour of the Sunday-school are out of the question. Let the proposed measures be fairly carried out, and let this oppressed portion of the community be released from their worse than Egyptian bondage, and what an agency for good is set at liberty! What numbers of pious young persons are ready to enter into the field of Sunday-school teaching. I well know how many in more favoured circumstances deem it their highest privilege to give their Sabbaths to Sundayschool, as well as district visiting in London; and how cheering it is to think of the accession of willing and efficient instruments which will then take place.

May the Lord prosper the benevolent effort. May the cry of the oppressed enter into his ears, and may He turn the hearts of men to do justice and love mercy!

W.

THE SUNDAY SCHOLAR.

NINE years have now witnessed a set of plain and simple men spending and devoting their whole lives in the cause of their Lord and Master, and from compassion to thousands perishing in their sins, in the London City Mission. And most abundantly has the Lord blessed their labours. Many souls has He given them for their hire; and many a triumphant spirit is there hymning eternal praises before the throne of God, who, but for their instrumentality, might be wailing and weeping in the pit of destruction.

Arduous are the difficulties, and manifold the discouragements which accompany the missionary, while he is passing from house to house; but now and then his Master causes a bright ray to cross his path, which cheers him on his way, and stimulates him to more earnest exertion. I shall give an instance, for the encouragement of Sunday-school Teachers. It is extracted from the

diary of one of the missionaries, and I can vouch for the truth of it.

It is the custom of the missionaries, when visiting in their districts, to commence with the first house in the street or alley, and in them they begin with the room on the ground floor, which is generally down in some damp and noisome cellar, and so on from story to story, till they reach the garret above. It so happened, while one of the missionaries was thus proceeding in his usual course, he reached the last room, as he thought, at the top of the house, (for between the roof of the house and the garret, there is usually a loft in which pigeons are kept,) and was about to go down again, when his attention was drawn to a ladder, set against the wall, Over which there was a trap door, through which he perceived day light above. At first he thought it was only one of these pigeon lofts, but lest he might be deceived, and leave some poor creature unvisited, he mounted the ladder, and lifted up the trap door, and truly it was a loft, and nothing more than a loft; but instead of its being tenanted by pigeons, there, upon the floor, lay a little girl, whose bedding was a scanty layer of straw, and whose clothing was a piece of an old carpet. She looked very pale and ill, and took but little notice of the unexpected visitor. He drew near her, and asked her whether she were ill. In a faint voice she told him she was. He said, "my child, where is your mother?" She replied, "I have no mother, she has been dead long since." He said, "and have you no father?" "Yes," she answered; "I have a father, but he goes out early in the morning to Covent Garden Market, with vegetables, and does not come back till evening." He asked her whether she was not very unhappy and lonely all the day long without her father? she replied, “No, I would rather my father were not here, for he swears and uses dreadful words, and that makes me sad." "And how do you know," said the missionary, "that it is wicked to swear-where were you taught this?" "Oh," said the child, "I went to a Sunday-school before we came to London; and there I was taught that swearers go to hell!" And then the missionary asked her a great many

more questions, and he found to his unutterable joy, that she had not only been taught the truth as it is in Jesus, and been instructed in the way to heaven, but that she had received that truth into her heart, and was really on that way which leadeth to eternal life. He did all he could to comfort the poor sufferer; and then promised to come to see her again in a few days: and he was as good as his word, for in a day or two after, he was climbing up that ladder on his way to the poor desolate little girl, who truly was desolate and forlorn, as far as this world was concerned, but had been found by the good Shepherd, and folded as one of his lambs with his "little flock." And there she was lying in the same place, on the same bed, with the same piece of old carpet upon her. But that place was the chamber of death-that bed was her bier; and that tattered carpet was her winding sheet. All was hushed in silence; the body of clay was left behind, but the spirit had fled to its Saviour: angels had carried it up into the abodes of bliss, and laid it in the bosom of its God.

Oh! what encouragement to Sunday-school Teachers! They do not know in what way they may be working for God's glory, or in what child God is sowing the precious seed. This little child might have given no hope of carrying away the blessed truths inculcated upon her time after time; but oh! when she lay desolate and forsaken in that upper garret, with what heart-felt delight would her thoughts run back to that Sabbathschool, where she was brought as a lamb into her Saviour's fold. If God has given you a work to do, do it with diligence, and in faith, believing that some seed is sure to spring up, and bring forth fruit to eternal life; and though you may not be able to make the selection, God knows which are His, and He causes the precious seed you sow to burst, and take root in this and that heart, and thus He makes up His "little flock," amidst the careless and ungodly.

B.