tom, in which he describes the impression made by this divine Scripture upon the heart of the reader. The apostle, Chrysostom says, "Speaks from heaven, and utters a voice louder than the thunder, and filling all the earth with the sound. And what is wonderful, mighty though the sound of it be, yet it is not harsh nor disagreeable, but sweeter than any musical harmony, and more soothing." And afterwards he says, that the men who receive and keep these mysteries with zeal and affection, rise above the world and aspire to the angelic nature. Claudius says, as quoted by Tholuck, "I read with the greatest pleasure in St. John. There is something in him so altogether wonderful twilight and night, and through them in the distance, the sudden glancing lightning! A soft evening cloud, and behind the cloud the great full moon. There is such a softened melancholy, something so lofty and full of foreboding, that we can never be weary of it. I understand not all I read; but often I seem to myself to apprehend dimly the meaning of John as it floats far off before me; and even when in darkness, I still have the conviction of a great and noble mind, which I shall one day understand, and therefore am I so eager to receive every new explanation of St. John's Gospel."

A CHAPTER ON LOUNGERS.

ONE lounger takes up more room than two labourers.

* * *

Loungers are always unhappy themselves, and their presence makes others so.

Loungers are invariably in mischief, because they have no other employ. Mice, rats, thieves, and borrowers themselves, are a less intolerable and destructive species of animals than loungers.

If you wish to injure your credit-lounge. No man of sense will ever trust you with a sixpence, after having detected you in lounging. Lounging should be classed among the great national evils which require to be removed. If nothing else can effect a cure, there should be established a great national anti-lounging society, with auxiliaries in every city, town, village, and hamlet, in the country.

When do people first begin to visit the gin-shop, the bar-room, the ale-house? When they first learn to lounge. Lounging creates idleness, restlessness, impatience of restraint, and neglect of duty. Where do you hear vulgar and profane language? Among loungers. Who waste the precious hours of the Sabbath? Loungers. For what purpose were theatres and playhouses invented? For the edification of loungers. Who loiter around skittle-grounds, billiard-rooms, racecourses, and cock-pits? Loungers. Who foment the wars that desolate the earth? Princely loungers, with whom campaigns are a game of hazard and amusement, whose dice-boards are battle-fields, whose chessmen are human beings.

Why are all these abuses tolerated in this age of boasted light, and literature, and learning? Because learned loungers have turned authors for their own and others' amusement, and deluge the world, not with their works, but with their idleness; and because fashionable loungers read to drive away thought, not to promote thinking.

Honesty should not lounge, for lounging and paying seldom go together. Patriotism cannot lounge, for lounging is a nation's curse. Christian! dost thou lounge? Up, and be doing, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might."

PARENTAL FAITHFULNESS REWARDED.

ABOUT eighteen hundred years ago, the angelic observers of Divine Providence might have beheld at Lystra, in Lyconia, a little group often gathered around the unrolled parchments of the Holy Scriptures. A lad, scarce weaned from his mother's arms, is leaning upon her knee, and as he spells out the holy word, turns from time to time, to look up into her face, and hear the explanations which render it intelligible. With earnest affection she regards her child, and strives to find words and illustrations adapted to his infant mind. Nor is she alone in her happy, though anxious duty. Seated by her side is that faithful parent, by whom her infancy had been hallowed unto God. Age has softened, but not dimmed the lustre of her eye, and time has but deepened upon her brow the impress of benevolence, as she beholds her mental care renewed in her pious daughter and her gentle boy. She too watches the progress of the lesson, and shares the mother's task. The little one reads of Abel's sacrificed lamb, and the rescued Isaac, when God provided his own burnt offering; and then pauses, to hear of Him, the promised, who comes to find the ransom for Abraham's seed. Again, he reads of Salem's former splendour, now the prey of the Gentile spoiler, but he reads also of the virgin-born, the Immanuel, who comes the Shiloh from among the descendants of Judah, to rebuild her ruins and bid her dust arise, when God, who dwelt between the cherubim, shall again dwell among his people, and "the throne of David be established for ever.

The lesson ended, the lisping of the child, the rich voice of woman, and the tremulous accents of age, blend together in one of the songs of Zion. For a while they dwell in plaintive strains upon the fallen glories and the moral decay of the chosen nation; and now they swell into lofty praise, as they anticipate the coming triumph; "Awake, awake, put on thy strength, oh! Zion. Put on thy beautiful garments, Oh! Jerusalem, thou holy city; for henceforth there shall no more come unto thee the uncircumcised, and unclean."

Nor is the pious duty ended. Together they kneel, looking toward the holy temple, and the child responds to the mother's prayer. The shadows of the night have gathered around them while they worship. The child is laid upon his pillow, and as he sinks to peaceful slumber, the mother and the grandmother invoke the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, to bless the son of their seed.

Happy mother! Happy woman! Happy child! Let others flaunt in gorgeous apparel at the public spectacle; let others smooth with down the couch of the infant hero, or flatter into imperial tyranny his youthful pride; the angels of God watch that lowly bed.

of Jacob pours out his blessing upon that infant heart. Obscure and

unknown among the proud ones of the earth, they are the objects of heaven's observance, and Jehovah's care.

cry,

..... Years have rolled away. There is an unusual movement among the people of Lystra. The streets resound with the "The gods have come down unto us in the likeness of men." They prepare the garlanded victims for the sacrifice. They surround with acclamations two strangers, who regard their homage with horror. One of them, humble in stature, but of noble countenance, answers their cry: Sirs, why do ye these things? we are men of like passions with yourselves, and preach unto you, that ye should turn from these vanities unto the living God." Among the astonished crowd is that infant son, now grown to early manhood. With breathless interest he listens to the message of St. Paul. He hears the announcement that the Messiah promised to his fathers hath appeared-that the Lamb of God, the reality of Abel's sacrifice and Levi's types, hath been slain-that the Immanuel, the Virgin Born, hath dwelt among his people. His heart, cultivated by his mother's piety, receives the word with joy. The Holy Ghost descends upon his soul. He returns gladly to his home, and his mother Eunice, and his grandmother Lois, rejoice in the faith of Christ with their son Timothy, whom "from a child they had taught the Holy Scriptures."

They prepared for the blessed work. Timothy could be no ordinary Christian. He joins himself to St. Paul. He becomes his own son in the faith, and the love of the Gospel. He kindles with a zeal imitative of his Master. Thousands of souls hear the Gospel gladly from his lips; they in their turn tell to thousands more the glad tidings of salvation, and the circling influence of him, who first stirred the waters, enlarge from generation to generation, until they break upon the shores of far eternity.

Who can estimate the number of souls that now rejoice, and that will rejoice in heaven, through the influence of that young apostle, who finished his course in martyrdom amid the mob at Ephesus? How bright does he shine amid that starry host, "who have turned many to righteousness!"

But will no reward through grace be found for those holy women, who trained him from his infancy to the work? Has his mother Eunice, and his grandmother Lois, no interest in the trophies of his apostleship? Oh! who will say, that woman hath no sphere of glorious achievement in the estimation of God, though the eye of public favour reach her not in the recesses of domestic duty? How will the blood-stained Semiramis, the wanton Cleopatra, Russia's flagitious Catharine, or England's haughty Elizabeth, compare with Eunice and Lois, the mother and grandmother of Timothy the apostle? Eternity will roll on, "pouring shame and everlasting contempt" upon those who sought the favour of men rather than that of God; but eternity, as it rolls along, will develope fresh glory to Christ from the souls of the redeemed brought to the cross through their faithful instrumentality. G. W. B.

Poetry.

Anecdotes of Animals.