surely the presence of God should have at least equal influence on us all. If it do not, it is either because we do not recognise the Presence, or acknowledge it, or care for it. All these reasons operate in their respective cases, but whatever may be their influence on man as a mass, the religious man, professing that Presence, is especially bound to act up to his profession, and speak and think accordingly. He is always on holy ground, in a holy presence, in a holy hearing. Let then his words be few, well weighed, reverential, holy; clothed in the spirit of his surrounding God, and uttered as far as possible, with direct reference to His acceptance of them. Wesley said, " my tongue is a devoted thing "--would that all men's were so, and that, the heart being filled with Divinity, "out of the abundance of the heart," the mouth should alone speak. With some men it really seems harder to speak well than to act well.

ONE summer evening, as the deepening twilight was bringing its refreshing shadow over the earth, a young woman quietly wended› her way through the streets of a country town. There was a pleasant smile on her face, for she was just begiuning, full of hopeful vigour, to perform the duties she had decided upon as her vocation in life. It had been a question difficult to settle, for her's was not one of those strong and resolute minds, which go forward without fear or hesitation, to fight their way through life's battle-ground, shielding their weaker neighbours. An unexpected trial had roused Mary Liston from a state of thoughtless enjoyment, and made her discover that God, in bestowing on man a spirit, intended that he should thereby serve spiritual, not the sensual powers, and that in placing His children in close connexion with each other, He did not design them to pass by want and suffering with selfish indifference, but had endowed them with sympathy to feel for, and power to alleviate these miseries. Having thus discovered that life has duties, and if duties, responsibility to perform them, Mary Liston determined to do her part with earnest purpose, to comfort and relieve, to influence and bless, whenever the weary or the wretched came within her reach.

She

We will now accompany her down a narrow, inferior street. was evidently a stranger there, no one heeded her, and she walked thoughtfully along in silent solitude. At last, a violent burst of childish grief from a cottage she was passing, made her stop. She

listened-a woman, in coarse brutal language, was scolding the unhappy child, and then a man's voice, sullen and full of chilling heartlessness, muttered, with an oath, "Gi'e him to me, woman, we'll soon stop that noise." Then a louder cry made Mary's indignation overflow. She hesitated no longer; was not this an opportu nity for doing good? So, with a hurried knock she entered, and threw herself between the man and his victim. He looked impudently in her face, and begged to know her pleasure; but before she could answer, the woman, in trying to snatch away the child, had overthrown an old table, the lighted candle which stood on it rolled over, and as the child struggled to get free, its clothes caught fire and were in flames directly. Mary tore off her cloak, pulled a blanket from a bed in the corner, rolled up the child as tightly as she could, and laid him on the floor. The woman had run off to spread the alarm, and the man still sat stupidly staring. In a short time the doctor had been, the boy was laid quietly on his bed, and then Mary strove to reason with the parents. She spoke earnestly, and yet they seemed untouched by all she said, and after many fruitless efforts, she turned away despairing.

Now, and often afterwards, how tempted did she feel to abandon the weary work! Yet, unconsciously to herself, she ever left behind her some reflection from the brightness of her loving heart, some echo from her gentle, kindly words!

We will suppose twelve months to have passed by, months full of bodily and mental exertion to Mary Liston. Ever keeping in sight the standard set before her, ever opening her heart to spiritual influences, she had been able to persevere, and we shall see with what success, by again accompanying her down the same narrow street.

This time curtseys and happy voices greeted her with joyful recognitions, mothers smiled their kindly welcome, as she entered homes no longer strange, sparkling eyes brightened her onward way with loving beams. We will enter one cottage with her. A pale, thin boy (her especial favourite) meets her with eager delight. He may well love her, for she has taught him how to love, and told him of the kind Father above, and of the glorious home in Heaven he will ere long exchange for this earthly one of vice and misery. Still a change has taken place in this household, which my readers will recognise as the scene of Mary's first labours; the woman is less violent, the man less dogged; even these hard hearts have yielded somewhat to her gentle influence. Thus Mary's work is gradually progressing. The love she has gained is very sweet to her, and while cherishing it, she strives to refine and purify it, that

it may pass through her, the instrument, to God, the great centre. of all love, and hope, and aspiration.

We will pass over another year, and take one last glance at Mary and her little friend. An unusual silence pervades through house and street, children with timid looks hover about the door, neighbours speak to them and to each other, with low, hushed voices; here and there a tear steals over some sad face.

The boy is dying. His kind heart and gentle ways have made him a general favourite; mothers entrusted their children to his care, children loved to be amused by him. Rude boys forgot their rudeness, at the sight of his quiet, meek face,-quarrels were checked, anger subdued, by the little peace-maker. The seed sown by his truest friend, had taken root, and sprung up into premature maturity, within his heart, and, even now, the reaper was approaching. I can

'Miss Mary, God will love you for all your love to me. not thank you, you need no thanks from me. God will bless you. How good He is to send you to me. Do not forget father and mother, oh! teach them as you have taught me. Do not leave me till I go." Thus he lay at peace, his head upon her shoulder. Thus the angel found him, and stole away that gentle spirit, to be perfected in heaven.

Mary rose sad and humble from that bedside; she had received fresh hope and strength, and learnt never-forgotten lessons of trust and patience, from the little sufferer who had so clung to her. With renewed purpose she dedicated her life to the performance of God's service. And as we now take leave of her, I would remind my readers, that not to one, but to all, is given work to do, powers bodily and spiritual to employ-how shall we use them?

Long life does not consist in many years, but in the period being filled with good services to our fellow-beings. He whose life ends at thirty may have done much, while he who has reached the age of one hundred may have done little.-Amos Lawrence.

the

The late Bishop Heber, in the narrative of his journey through upper province of his diocese, relates that one of the boatmen every day set apart a certain portion of his rice, and bestowed it on the birds, saying, "It is not I, but my child that feeds you." He had lost an only son some years before; and the boy having been in the custom of feeding birds in this way, the parent never omitted doing so at sunset.

Certainly it is a high dignity that is conferred on man, that he may as freely and frequently as he will, converse with Him that made him, the great King of Heaven and earth. It is indeed a wonder that God should honour poor creatures so much; but it is no less strange that men having so great privileges, the most part of them do use them so little. Seldom do we come to him in times of ease; and when we are spurred to it by afflictions and pains, commonly we try all other means rather than this, that is the alone true and unfailing comfort. But such as have learned this way of laying their pained head and heart in His bosom, they are truly happy, though in the world's language they be never so miserable. -Leighton.

ASIA AND LEBANON.

ASIA, as most of my readers will know, is one of the three great divisions of the Old World, or the Eastern Hemisphere, Europe and Africa being the other two. This is the simplest definition of it, but let us lift the veil a little-and what a world of intense peculiar interest, to all lovers of ancient history in general, and Scripture history in particular, is there not revealed in Asia! There it was, as various indications plainly show, that man first existed, and though Antiquarians differ as to the precise spot where the beautiful Garden of Eden flourished, there are no traditions on which we can so well rely as our Bible narrative, which exalts some region on or near the banks of the Euphrates and the Tigris, to the honour of being the birth-place of our race. And there it was, amongst the many debasing religions which, from time to time, sprung forth to flourish for awhile and then decline, that the one pure and undefiled arose, the light which shone in darkness-that true light which lighteth every man-and which has done so much to purify and bless the world, though very very far from having done yet what the full power of its glorious might may,-let us hope, will do,-and that speedily.

You must not suppose that the word Asia is used in the New Testament in any very extensive sense. There Asia means only the country round Ephesus, or the Roman proconsular province, which included Mysia, Lydia, Phrygia, and Caria, as well as the districts of Troas (so called from the celebrated city of Troy) Æolia, Ionia, and Doris. Or sometimes it means Asia Minor, which then comprehended, in addition to the above named districts, Bithynia, Pontus, Galatia, and Cappadocia, with Lycia, Pamphylia, Pisidia, and Cilicia. Asia Minor at present is synonymous with Anatolia, one of the four great highlands of Asia, elevated many thousands of feet above the sea, and lying within the boundaries of the Black Sea on the north, the Mediterranean on the south, the Greek Archipelago on the west, and Armenia and the Euphrates on the east. And the peninsula of Asia Minor which now bears the name of Anatolia, was known by that name as early as the fifth century, in contradistinction to the vast continent which is now called Asia, containing upwards of 400 millions of inhabitants, which is twice as many as Europe contains, and more than eight times as many as America, which continent in its area approaches nearer to Asia than any other...

In the poems of Hoper, containing our earliest records of European history, we learn that before the War of Troy some intercourse