themselves that, if only they might live that year over again, there should be found in it less of things below, and more of things above-less of earth, and more of heavenless of self, and more of God. And yet we know well that such a thought is vain; for the past year can never be recalled; we shall never see it again. But God has been very good to us, and now He has spared us to see the beginning of this year also. The beginning of it but which of us shall live to see its close? fancy that, while bodily health and strength last, we may safely give all our thoughts to the things of this world—that it will be time enough to think of eternity when age or sickness comes upon us. Twelve months ago there were many, as strong and hearty as ourselves, rejoicing in the prospect of long and happy lives: and they little thought that that New Year would be their last, and that, long before the year came to an end, they themselves would be numbered with the dead. But so it was. And what reason have we to think that life is now more sure to us than it was to them? Or even, if such a thing were possible, that we could be sure of life for many years to come, yet we know that we must at the last give an account to God of this present year, whether we have used it for His glory, or for any selfish and worldly ends of our own. And surely the year that is just begun will not be less happy-will it not be far happier as well as holier, if we are careful so to spend it that we may then be able to render an account with joy? How then shall we make the coming year a happy one? How shall we treat it as a true friend deserves to be treated? We have found out before now that solemn impressions and good resolutions alone are not enough. We want a power stronger than our own, to fix those solemn impressions upon our hearts, and to enable us to bring those good resolutions to good effect. In past years, perhaps, we have thought too much of what we ourselves intended to do for the amendment of our own lives. Let us think more this year of what God is able and willing to do in us. In past years, perhaps, our determination has been something after this sort : "I will go as truly and uprightly along my Christian course as I can." Let us adopt this year a still higher principle of action, and let us say, "I will go in the strength of the Lord God." There is a Father in heaven waiting to own us as His children. There is a blessed Saviour waiting to prove to us the riches of His love. There is a Holy Spirit waiting to make our hearts His dwelling-place, and to lead us in safety to our journey's end. Let us not, then, forget what help, what strength may be ours if only we seek it humbly and earnestly in prayer. Let this be the spirit in which we enter upon the duties of the coming year. And then we shall indeed have cause to look for success. Then we shall indeed have cause to take our share in the hearty enjoyment of A HAPPY NEW YEAR. T. N. "I'm not Perfect." HIS was Martha's excuse for her many shortcomings, and she expected it would amicably settle every domestic trouble arising from her carelessness or want of thought. "Ah, well, I'm not perfect," was the moral heal-all she applied on all occasions where mischief had followed in the wake of her forgetfulness. But she got her answer one day from old Job, the gardener, when she had stepped across his newly-trimmed bed of petunias, contrary to his orders. It is true she had raised her dress carefullyenough, but that was only between her elbows, for her hands were full of vegetables, so the skirt fell down again, and dragged along the crisp stalks, snapping them off close to the flowers, which, all unaware, Martha carried back with her on the braid which edged her gown; and these poor broken petunias it was that bore witness against her in Job's eyes. "Now, Martha," he cried, "just look at them lovely flowers, that haven't seen daylight for many hours, and now you're sweeping the earth with them! If 'tweren't for my name-which I'm very thankful for I should be out of patience with you." An apology would have mended matters, for old Job was a good-tempered fellow; but, instead of it, Martha brought forth her heal-all, and said coolly, “Well, I couldn't help it; I'm not perfect, and you don't expect me to be, I suppose.' "No, I don't, but God does! leastways if you are one of His children." Martha was so surprised at this unexpected home-thrust, that she let the cabbages fall from her arms. "Why, what do you mean, Job?" "Just what I say; for what I say is what the Bible says: 'Be ye therefore perfect-listen, Martha--' even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.' What can be plainer than that?" 1 Plain indeed, and so she felt it; but, trying to excuse herself, she replied, "Ah, but the Bible also says, 'He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust." "2 "True, praise God! Our Heavenly Father never gives a command but He opens a way for us poor creatures to obey it; for we might e'en wait till doomsday to obey it by ourselves, and then be found altogether in the wrong." The petunia spoliation was forgotten, and the spoiler forgiven, and Job's eyes, beaming with kindness, fixed on Martha as he added: "When our Father told His children to be perfect, He didn't forget all about their being dust, and weak, and poor things, and such-like; He just remembered it all, and so He laid help on One that was mighty, and stored up in Him the very perfection He knew we'd all want when we came to take to heart His words about being perfect." Now, Martha had been an apt Sunday-scholar, and knew well enough to whom Job referred, even to Him, the Lord 1 Matt. v. 48. 2 Psa. ciii. 14. 1 Jesus Christ, of whom the apostle Paul writes by inspiration, "Ye are complete in Him," and "It, pleased the Father that in Him (the Lord Jesus) should all fulness dwell;" but it did not suit her just then to remember that this grand storehouse of grace was always open to her-to her, Martha Gray herself. She liked to think of it as ever ready for others for general need, for life-long need-but she forgot to go herself and draw from its never-failing supplies. She forgot in calculating future necessities, that to-day-this hour, this moment, she was unprovided with the means of fulfilling the Divine injunction, "Be ye therefore perfect." She forgot that if she were indeed a believer in God's gracious promises, it might be her joyful privilege to exclaim at once of this enjoined perfection, "Of His fulness have I received, and grace for grace !"3 And in thus forgetting, Martha lost much of that Christian happiness which arises from a constant application to Him "who giveth liberally," ,"4 and never upbraids for the most continuous appearance at His ever-open throne of grace. When we hear it said, "I've a bad temper, and I know it too; so had my mother before me," we may expect, if the necessity arose, the same speaker would say, "I've a bad fever about me; I feel it, but can't help it;" or, "I've the plague; I feel I have, but there's no remedy; my father died of it before me." And yet such persons would be far too wise to utter folly of this kind; they would call in the doctor, or fly to remedies; their knowledge of their malady would only make them the more anxious to rid themselves of it. So should it be with all those who are conscious of soul ailments and imperfections; they should go to the Great Physician; they should neither trifle with nor apologize for their frailties. Let them leave their tender, compassionate High Priest to cleanse and heal their sickness; but let their cry be an acknowledgment of need, accompanied with a prayer for His merciful dealing with their sad case. But, dear reader, let us lay aside speaking of others, and 1 Col. ii. 10. 2 Col. i. 19. 3 See John i. 16. * James i. 5. ask ourselves individually, Am I aiming at that perfection which is recommended by the Lord Jesus when He says, "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect ?" Am I looking away from self to Christ in order to obtain it? Am I striving by the divinely-appointed means to possess it, or, like the Martha of this little story, resting idly satisfied with the fact that I am not perfect, nor expect to be in this world? Let us not fear to face such inquiries, for they lead to priceless treasures of perfection, found only in that spotless Lamb without blemish, whose righteousness becomes ours so soon as we become His. Let us not fear to probe ourselves with these questions, for, though full of self-abasement, they have no discouragement in their reply. On the contrary, where they are sincerely asked by a soul longing to know and do God's will, they ever bring answers of love and peace, which stimulate its hearty desire to press towards the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Dear reader, let the often-heard saying, "I'm not perfect; I know I'm not," be ours in its right sense, and drive us to Him who is able and willing to succour them that are tempted,1 and who invites us to come boldly to His throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help every time of need.2 in A Safe Account; or, "You will never regret it.” FOR THE NEW YEAR. NE morning lately I passed two City men who were in close conversation, and I heard one of them say to the other, "If you open an account with him, you will never regret it." The man to whom the words were spoken had evidently been making inquiries of his friend as to the commercial |