soul-until every power and faculty is fully and for ever engaged in glorifying and honouring thee. Did Jesus die for me? He did. Then let me be willing to suffer, and if need be, to die for him. Let me never wish to keep anything from Jesus. My sufferings for him, let them be what they may, are not worth a thought if once compared with his. Any sacrifice I can make for him is not worth naming, when I think of the sacrifice he offered for me. O the sweetness, the savour of those precious words, "Christ hath loved us and given himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God, for a sweet smelling

savour!"

Sinner, you cannot say," He died for me." And yet it is only by his dying that you can live. Except Jesus die for us we can never be saved. But no one can be justified in saying, "Jesus died for me," until the need of Christ is felt, and an application for salvation to Christ is made. Need a Saviour you do, but perhaps you do not feel it. Apply to Jesus to save you, you ought, but perhaps you do not. O that God the Holy Spirit may quicken you, enlighten your mind, and lead you as a poor, lost, wretched sinner to him for life and peace, and then you may sav, and say with confidence and comfort, "HE DIED FOR ME."

THE HEART THAT CAN FEEL FOR ANOTHER.

THIS motto commends itself to every one at once, and each would speak approvingly of it. But there are many who are not influenced by it. Heathenism is opposed to it. Popery prevents it. The holy law of God requires it. The gospel and the grace of Christ produces it. Every Christian is supposed to have such a heart, and is required to manifest it, in all the walks of life. "See that ye love one another," is a divine injunction. "Love one another as I have loved you," is the Saviour's new commandment. Love is full of sympathy. It endeavours to relieve pain-to soothe sorrow-to supply wants-and to prevent danger. It will stoop -it will bend-it will suffer if it may but serve. In every class of society, we have many pleasing and affecting proofs of the power of love; but among what are called the lower classes, we often meet with the most striking manifestations of "The heart that can feel for another.

Old Mary Tomlin is very poor, and her bones are full of pain, but she has such a

heart. Her neighbour, Martha Sims, is very unwell, and that poor creature will go and tidy up her room, smooth her pillow, and speak kind and loving words about Jesus to her; and if ever she has anything nice sent her, which she thinks Martha could fancy, she is sure to save her a part. Many an hour's suffering has Mary prevented, and many a suffering hour has she beguiled away, by her christian conversation. She loves dearly to talk of Jesus, and tell a bit of her own experience; and a very rich experience she has to tell. She will first do all she can for her suffering neighbour, and will then sit down by her, wishing she was a good scholar, that she might read to her; but as she cannot do that, out of a well stored memory, she brings many a precious promise, and many a sweet verse of a hymn, so much so that Martha wonders where she can get them from. Mary has not got a long purse, or a learned head, but she has "a heart that can feel for another."

Little Betsy Smith is but poor, but the grace of God has early taken possession of her soul, and as is always the case then, she wishes to be useful. She is not old enough to take a class in the Sunday school, she wishes she She cannot do so much that may be called work, to help the aged or the sick, but she is always ready to run on an errand for them ; or do any little thing to add to their

was.

comfort. She may often be seen too with her little testament, or some favourite book, sitting and reading beside poor widow Williams, who cannot read herself, nor often get out to a place of worship to hear the gospel. She also reads slowly and impressively, and does not mind going back and reading a passage over again, when the old lady has not caught the meaning, or does not exactly understand it. There are a great many things that Betsy Smith has not, but let her be short of what she may, she has "a heart that can feel for another."

James Webb, poor lad, has a heavy, hard place, and has to work a great many hours. He always goes to bed thoroughly tired out on Saturday night, but he is almost sure to be at the early prayer meeting on Lord's day morning, and never misses meeting his Sunday school class, unless unwell or out of town. It grieves him to see lads growing up without being able to read the Bible. Öften has he during the week, put the question to lads he has met with, "Do you go to a Sunday school?" and if they say they do not he at once begins to persuade them to go. a youth has he induced to enter the Sabbath school. Nor is he satisfied with seeing them at school, or reading the Bible, he longs and endeavours to lead them to Jesus. He knows more than one or two whom he has reason to believe has fled for refuge to the Saviour, through his instrumentality. His eye often

Many

passes over the faces of the different classes, while the address is being delivered, to see if any impression is made, and if he sees any evidence of this, he is sure to find an opportunity to follow it up with an affectionate exhortation in private. James Webb is not wealthy, he is not very gifted, but he has " a heart that can feel for another."

Henry Rogers knows and loves the Saviour, and he heartily wishes that every one also did, but he is not satisfied with merely wishing. He is a mechanic, and works hard all the week. Something often whispers to him, that he ought to stay at home and rest on the Lord's day, and he loves rest, and enjoys it too, as much as most men. But Henry can manage to talk for half an hour about the Lord Jesus Christ, because he knows and loves him; and he can speak very well of the sinner's state and danger, because he has been taught of God to know himself and his own natural condition. He has no great gifts, he often wishes he had, but then he says, perhaps he is better without them, for they might puff him up and make him proud. Well, there are several dark villages near the town in which Henry dwells, and on Lord's day evenings he visits these villages, and in the cottages of the poor tells of a Saviour's love. Many discouragements has he met with, much ingratitude has been shown him, often has he been tempted to give up, and stay at home and enjoy him