let us look to Jesus with the cry, "Lord, save us, or we perish," and we shall be saved.

There was once a little boy who was taught by his pious mother to say David's prayer, "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I," and to use it when he felt the need of it. He was a passionate child, and his mother taught him that, when he felt the storm of angry passion rising within him, he should cry for help to conquer it where alone help can be found. She said to him, "You know these fits of temper are very wicked, you often promise to amend; but you cannot do this in your own strength. Jesus only can help you. He is the rock spoken of in your text. Whenever you feel your stormy temper rising, pray earnestly, "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I."

That little boy lived to be an old man. He passed through many storms of sin and of sorrow, but his mother's teaching was never quite forgotten; he always remembered this prayer; and in sickness and old age he was enabled to find safety and peace in the "rock."

"Oh, when the whirlwind of passion is raging,

And sin in our hearts its wild warfare is waging;
Lord, send down thy grace, thy redeemed to cherish,
Rebuke the destroyer, 'Save, Lord, or we perish.'

J. H.

INDEPENDENCE.

"WHAT a grand thing it is to be independent,” said an old violin, as it lay half in and half out of its richly ornamented case; "to be admired and

praised by all; to be the means of giving forth such sweet sounds as to make my hearers weep or laugh at my master's pleasure, and yet to be independent, to have all this within one's self.”

"Do you mean to say that you are independent ?" said the bow, who had been listening impatiently to the violin's self-complacent remarks, and who was now in a very unamiable frame of mind. "You independent! Why, what would you be without me? Granting that, have the beautiful tone of which you speak, what is it, pray, that brings it out of you? Why, it is I; and is it not I that draws the weird howls and beautiful speaking tone out of you for which our master is so famous ? You independent! It is I who deserve all the praise. You are simply a passive instrument; I do all the work."

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No, no, you don't," cried the four strings, in chorus. "I," cried Mr. G., "produce the beautiful speaking tone;" "I," cried Mr. D., "produce the weird howls;" "I," said Master A., "produce beautiful harmonies;" "I," said Miss E., "the highest natural notes;" "We all," said Mr. G., can do these things more or less; indeed, without us you would both be useless; you are both dependent on us."

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"Ay, ay, these things are all very true,” said a little cake of rosin, from the bottom of the case, who had been very quietly listening to all that had been said, "but you must not forget me: for, little and insignificant as I may appear, you are all dependent on me. Without me the bow would slip, the strings would not vibrate, and consequently there

would be no sound at all; so you see that your independence-if there is such a thing in existence -must be very small indeed when it dwindles down to an insignificant piece of rosin."

"You are quite right," said a hoary old violoncello, who had gravely heard the discussion to its end; "there is no such thing as independence in this world; it never did nor never will have an existence among mortals. The most powerful king that ever lived was not independent. There is nothing in nature independent in itself; the smallest blade of grass cannot grow without air, rain, and sun. We may say, with truth, nature abhors independence. And when nations on this earth boast of it, and even fight amongst themselves about it, they only show their own ignorance and foolishness: for nations, like everything else in this world, cannot exist independent of each other. So you need not be surprised, my little friend," said the violoncello, turning to the violin, "at the ease with which your little friends have corrected you of the too common mistake; apart from each other, as you have seen, you are all of little or no use; but, combined, you give forth almost the sweetest melody and harmony that it is possible to listen to. so it will be with the nations of this earth; as long as they are separated by feuds and contentions, there will be nothing but wars and rumours of wars; but when they all combine to work harmoniously together, they will give forth-figuratively speaking-the sweetest harmony and melody."

And

THE LITTLE SWEEP'S PRAYER.

KNOWING that all the children in my class were constantly occupied during the week, I feared that the duty of prayer was sometimes neglected. I insisted one Sabbath on the importance of prayer. At the close, I asked a little boy of ten years of age, who led a very uncomfortable life in the service of a master sweep, “And do you ever pray ?" "Oh, yes! Monsieur.” "And when do you do it?

And what do you

You go out very early in the morning, do you not ?" "Yes, Monsieur; and we are only half awake when we leave the house. I think about God, but cannot say that I pray then." "When, then ?" "You sec, Monsieur, our master orders us to mount the chimney quickly, but does not forbid us to rest a little when we are at the top. Then I sit upon the top of the chimney and pray." say P "Ah, Monsieur, Very little! I know no grand words with which to speak to God. Most frequently I only repeat a verse that I have learned at school." "What is that ?" My scholar repeated with fervour, "God be merciful to me a sinner."A good prayer, young reader. Have you ever offered it ?-French Sabbath School Magazine.

WHAT A DUMB GIRL SAID ABOUT PRAYER. A LITTLE deaf and dumb girl was once asked by a lady, who wrote the question on a slate, "What is prayer ?"

The little girl took her pencil and wrote the reply, "Prayer is the wish of the heart."

And so it is. All fine words said to God do not make real prayer without the sincere wish of the heart. Remember, God takes our prayers more from the heart than the lips.

SUNDAY SCHOOL HYMN.

LITTLE hearts, O Lord, may love thee;
Little minds may learn thy ways;
Little hands and feet may serve thee;
Little voices sing thy praise;
Holy Jesus,

Come and bless us,

Bless us while this hymn we raise.

Lo! each Sabbath comes to cheer us;
Truth and lover teachers bring;
Great Redeemer, be thou near us,
Make us grateful while we sing;
Loving Jesus,

Come and bless us,

Guard our weakness 'neath thy wing.

Lowly now we stand before thee;

Wiser may we daily grow;

Help us ever to adore thee,

And through life thy grace to show:

Gracious Jesus,

Come and bless us,

Guide us safely here below.