Bibles, till you can say, as David did, that the word of God is to you sweeter than the honey-comb. Hophni and Phinehas are as beacons for the children cf Christian parents ; may many take warning from their sad end. What a separation was there between Eli and his children at death. Perhaps some careless child may read this paper who cares not whether he is lost or saved. But are you willing to be for ever separated from your dear father or mother? Are you satisfied that the dreadful “great gulf,” which separated the rich man and Lazarus, should separate you? Well then, if you have no love to your dying and risen Saviour, no gratitude to a forbearing God, no thought of your own soul, let the dread of eternal separation from your parents after death, urge you to follow them closely in your life on their way to the heavenly Jerusalem.

Let it not be said of you hereafter, now the sons of -- were sous of Beli. al: they knew not the Lord.

CHRIST'S COMING. The Lord will treat you at his coming, as you now treat him. If you neglect him, he will then neglect you. If you now put him on the left hand, by preferring any little pleasure or present good to his service, he will put you on the left hand in that day.

Stewart's Advent.

THE ORPHAN.
“Where shall the child of sorrow find,

A place for caldi repose ?
Thou Father of the fatherless,

Pity the Orphan's woes.
What friend have I in heaven or earth?

What friend to trust but Thee ?
My father's dead, my mother's dead,

My God, remember me !
Thy gracions promise now fulfil,

CABOS
And bid my troubles cease;
In thee the fatherless shall find

Both mercy, grace, and peace.
I've not a secret care or pain,

But he that secret knows:
Thou Father of the fatherless,

Pity an Orphan's woes.

A very sweet and plaintive voice sang these words. I could not at first make out from whence or from whom it came. It was a fine moonlight evening in the month of September ; and being a stranger in the village, I went to the church which stood upon

a hill at some distance from the houses, pro. posing to myself the pleasure' of a lovely walk among the graves. I had scarcely arriv. ed at the gate, which stood opposite to the church porch, when the above verses were softly sung by some person, not in sight.

And at that moment a poor girl, about fifteen or sixteen years of age, came from behind the church, and soon returned again, without knowing that she was overheard. I could not help fearing lest my approach might disturb the feelings of the poor girl, who seemed to be overcome with much sor. row of heart.

Whilst I was gently opening the gate, she again sung the two last lines as before;

At that moment, the noise of the gateshutting after I had passed through, caught her ear : she came forward, somewhat startled, and said. "Who is there?" "One," replied I, " that can feel for the fatherless, and pity the Orphan's woes. Do not be afraid, but tell me, whether the words you have been singing, apply to your own case ? Are you deprived of your own parents ?”

Bursting into tears, she said, " Indeed, Sir, I have lost them both, and am left without a friend on earth.

“But, I trust," added I, “not without a friend in heaven!”

*I hope not, Sir," said the girl, “but my heart is very heavy. It is not a fortnight since my poor mother was laid in that grave beside my father, who died last year."

“And what brings you here to-night?” said I.

" Sir, I come here, as often as I can in the evening, when my day's work is over, to look at these two graves, and think about my dear father and mother. They were the best that any poor child ever had ; and my greatest comfort now is, to come here by myself, and think over all their kindness and love to me, whilst they lived.” Tears again prevented her saying more.

"And where did you learn that hymn, which I heard just now ?”

“Sir,” said she, “it is one that the mi. nister of our parish made for some children in the Sunday-School, who lost their father and mother a few years ago. He called it, “ The Orphan's Hymn,” and we sometimes used to sing it at church and at school. But I did not know then, how soon it would be my own turn to feel the same loss, and sing it for myself. But it is the Lord that hath done it, and I desire to submit to his will.”

"Did your parents bring you up in the fear of God, and the knowledge of his blessed Gospel ”

“Oh! yes, Sir, it was all their wish and pains to do so. They loved and feared God themselves, and they did all that lay in their power to teach me to do so too."

“And I hope from what you say,” added I, “ that their instructions have not been in vain. You can read, and know the value of God's word ?”

“ I hope I do, Sir. I have learned from it, how good Jesus Christ has been to sinners. Poor, friendless, and distressed as I am, I would not part with the hope which the word of God gives me, for all the world. My mother told me ___” (here being much affected, she with difficulty went on.)“ my

mother told me, a little before she died, that she had nothing to leave me but a blessing, a Bible, and the prayers which she had been offering up for me, ever since I was born. But, she said, that is enough, if God is bit pleased to arcept them.' Indeed, Sir, yo'l cannot think what a dear good mother I have lost. And now I am obliged to live with some neighbours, who use me very hardly, and force me to work beyond my strength, to get hreai to eat. Sir, I have now no father nor' mother to take care of me, and teach me the ways of God, as they nsed to do. I am youn, and ignorarıt; and I ain afraid, lest without a guide, I should 1all intų temptation."

"Let this be your comfort," I replied : “ when your father and mother forsake you, then the Lord will take you up. For God is the helper of the fatherless, and hath given a cheering promise to the believing parent, that he may leave his fatherless children, and God will preserve them alive