exertion in so good and holy a cause. And should these few remarks prove acceptable to the public, I shall be happy to serve them again with others, which I trust may not be wholly unprofitable or uninteresting. Epperstone, 1850. G. K. "THIRTY YEARS SINCE." "Be not discouraged in your apparently fruitless task as a Sabbath school teacher," said Colonel Clark * once to me; 66 we know not where the blessing of such instruction may end; we are now only the the sowers, the harvest is not yet, and the reapers are to be the angels." My friend then illustrated the duty of thus patiently persevering in teaching the young, and of considering it as an act of faith, and a work and duty of love, instead of resting its performance on the gratification of ourselves in witnessing its utility, by the following incident, which is too good to be forgotten. "Some years ago," said he, "when it had pleased God to awaken my own mind to the value of the soul, and the importance of seeking the kingdom of God and his righteousness, I felt a deep concern for the best interests of the men of my regiment, and especially for those of my own Company, the Grenadiers of Her Majesty's 46th regiment, of which I had then recently got the Command. The Colour Serjeant of the Company was a fine active, energetic, young man, and a thoroughly smart and attentive soldier. But he had acquired the too common habit of profane swearing and taking God's name in vain, and was sadly indifferent to the requirements of the Gospel. His duty it was to bring defaulters to my notice, and on these occasions, I never lost an opportunity of seriously speaking to them and warning them of the sin and the danger of such courses. I had supplied every man of my Company who could read, with a copy of the Bible and Prayer Book, and a continued earnest advocacy of Christian truth and practice had, I trust, told beneficially on some, whilst it exercised an influence which was useful upon all. Serjeant B, had thus often incidentally heard me speak of the all-seeing Eye of God, of his holy law, and of the Saviour's grace; but This excellent officer, after a lengthened command of his regiment, which he maintained in a high state of discipline and efficiency, succeeded to the Govern ment of one of the West India Islands, and ultimately to that of the Swan river, (western Australia,) where he died a few years ago, much beloved and deeply lamented. he remained the same heedless and profane man as before. At length sickness laid him low. I visited him in the hospital, it was at the station of Ballory, in India, and observing him looking very pale and ill, I sat down by his bed-side, and opened my Bible and read to him. He listened with marked attention, but was silent. I prayed with him and for him, for which he thanked me; my visits to him in the hospital were repeated, and each time his countenance seemed more and more deeply interested, yet he said little. Recovery seemed at length hopeful, when I said, 'Serjeant B―, you have, I hope, Blearned some good lessons on your sick bed, and now that you seem likely shortly to recover, and to return to your duty, I hope you will take warning and at once join the little band of God's people in the Regiment, and abstain from profane and evil ways; you are a clean and steady soldier, and possess much influence with the men, and I hope you will be on the right side when mingling again with them.'" "Ah Sir," he replied, "I know my weakness, and I hope I may be kept from evil companions. But if God sees that I should turn my back on Him when I come out of hospital, I have no wish to recover." He spoke so little generally, that I was much struck with what he now said, yet I hardly considered it the deliberate wish of his heart so much as the expression of a passing impression. A relapse however, soon tested the sincerity of his desire. I found him a few days after, again seriously ill; he was supported in a sitting-up posture in his bed; again I read to him, when he said, "Oh Sir, those prayers which you have from time to time read to me here, I remember to have learnt thirty years ago, as a boy in a Sunday school in England. I had then committed them to memory, and yet from that time till this illness, I seemed to have forgotten them; but here, when lying on a sick bed, they have again come to mind, and as you have read them to me they have seemed to come quite fresh in my memory; I can now repeat whole chapters I had long forgotten, and it is well I know them, for I am too weak now to read. I have here thought much of them.” passage I had just read to him, was Matt. ix. 20-22. His weakness increased and he spoke with some difficulty; I asked what was his hope in the prospect of eternity. He paused, and with faltering tongue and uplifted eye, solemnly, and as I really hope, believingly, exclaimed, "Oh! that I might but touch the hem of his garment;" his head dropt, and he expired. One How little did the teacher of this Sunday scholar contemplate the good which resulted from his labour; his scholar had become profligate, had left his village and his friends, had enlisted and gone abroad, and been considered by all as abandoned and lost. But not so; thirty years of winter storms had buried up "the good seed," sown in his heart," and like the poor prodigal, he "had come to himself," and truths thus long buried, now sprang up, and we hope many have led the poor profligate to his Father's arms. My friend's story has for twenty-six years been my own unfailing stay in Sabbath school work, in different and distant quarters of the world, and I relate it in the hope that it may perchance prove the like encouragement to some of my readers, whose faith in the Divine promises, and whose love to Christ, may like my own be so feeble as to need such proofs, that "bread thus cast upon the waters," in dependence on the blessing of God, shall yet "be found after many days." C. 3. "GOD DEFEND THE RIGHT." ADJOINING to the highway in the county of Worcester, within thirteen miles of the "faithful city," stands a neat and apparently recently erected cottage, with a stone inserted in its front wall, bearing the words at the head of this paper,-" God defend the right," in large and legible characters. A nobler monument, in the estimation of the writer, no place need wish to boast of; for there it stands as the lasting memorial of a Sunday scholar's filial love and affection towards an aged parent. Seventeen years ago, the occupier of that house was left a widow with nine children, all of whom, as they respectively became old enough, she regularly sent to the Sunday school; nor did she let trifles prevent their appearance, for during their attendance seldom was it ever seen that this widow's children were absent. "Ah! sir," were her words to the writer, "when my children were young, it was often-times hard scratching for me; but the Lord in me and mine, has graciously fulfilled his promise, for without Him what should we have done! He has indeed been a Father to the fatherless, and a Friend to the widow, Blessed be his Holy Name." Not one of this fatherless family has ever been taken into a criminal court, or before a magistrate, for any crime or misdemeanour whatever. All are doing well in this world, and as the youngest (now nineteen years old,) lately expressed it, we have a hope, not one unmindful of the things which belong to their everlasting peace. The eldest daughter is now forty years of age, has been a domestic servant from a mere child, still remains unmarried, and out of her hard-earned wages has actually erected the cottage in which her mother now resides; so that to use her own words, "her mother might never want a home!" Noble resolve! Verily, such a child will not lose her reward. O, that England possessed thousands of such sons and daughters; and she doubtless would do so, did all parents duly appreciate the value of a sound Christian education. But for the lessons prayerfully inculcated in the Sunday school, how different might now have been the situation of each member of this now united, prosperous, and happy family? May God continue to bless both parent and children, and grant unto each of them such a measure of his grace, that they running the way of his commands, may obtain his gracious promises; so that when their short abode here is ended and the shadow departed, they may all rest in a holy hope at last, and enter into 66 an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Teacher, in the good and holy cause in which you are engaged, go forward, prayerfully and earnestly; and doubt not but an abundant blessing will be vouchsafed to your labour, however feeble or humble your lot. "Paul may plant and Apollos water, but God alone can give the increase,” and we have the promise that "his Word shall not return unto Him void, but shall accomplish that for which it was sent," even the salvation of souls. G. L. SUNDAY SCHOOL ANECDOTES. "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand, for thou knowest not which shall prosper." How often is the bearer of the good seed of the kingdom baffled in his nicest calculations of success! Perhaps he has selected a little favoured spot of ground, into which, with eager hand, he casts the precious seed, presuming too hastily on the fruitfulness of the soil from the pleasantness of its aspect, and its exposure to the sunshine and softening showers of Heaven; but while he is anxiously watching for the result of his labours, "Seeking fruit but finding none," perchance his eye is arrested by marks of greenness and verdure where he scarcely remembers to have sown the seed. He who seeth not as man seeth, has made the sacred deposit buried in that desert place, the object of his peculiar care, has softened the rugged soil with showers, and "blessed the springing thereof," thus forcibly reiterating the command quoted above, "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand, for thou knowest not which shall prosper." These thoughts are suggested by the simple history of little Elizabeth, a scholar in our alphabet class. She was a quiet and rather uninteresting child, and though regular in her attendance, had never attracted the particular notice of her teacher, who had no idea that the truth of God was making a real impression on her young heart One Sabbath morning however, she missed the child, and on making enquiry, was grieved to hear, that the day before, while playing near a lime kiln at the back of her father's house, her clothes had caught fire, and no one being near to extinguish the flames, she was so severely burnt that her life was despaired of. That Sabbath day she died, before her teacher had the opportunity of seeing her; but she paid a visit to the heart-broken mother, who told her as well as her tears would permit, the circumstances connected with the death, and also something of the character of her beloved child. The day that the accident happened, little Elizabeth was out at play as joyous gay as her companions; she came in for a minute to warm her hands, and while she rested, repeated, as her mother said, "so sweetly" the whole of the hymn, beginning: and "Lord teach a little child to pray," The last two or three verses of which were so beautifully appropriate to herself, "To Him let little children come, For He has said they may; His bosom then shall be their home, For all that early seek his face, Shall surely taste his love; Jesus shall guide them by his grace To dwell with Him above." Little did the mother think, as she listened to "the favourite hymn," that the Good Shepherd was about to gather this tender lamb home to his bosom; but so it was, for very shortly after, she was brought home in a pitiable condition, and laid on her little bed, from which she never rose again. The next day was the Sabbath, and as its hallowed light streamed in upon the little sufferer, she asked her grandmother what morning it was, and on being told, she began to talk about her Sunday school and her " ducky teacher," as she always called her; then looking at her grandmother, she said, “do let me go to school;" and on being told that she was too ill, she still urged it again. "Grandmother, take me out of bed, I can stand." A few hours after she died. The testimony that the mother bore to the character of her child was very interesting: her fondness for the day and the house of the Lord were remarkable; she would often bring home parts of the sermon, saying, "that was what the minister said without the book, mother;' but her devoted attachment to her teacher and the Sunday school, which proved a "ruling passion strong in death" was most conspicuous. While the teacher felt, in listening to the mother's simple tale, much regret that she had |