A minister asked a dying Sunday scholar if she had not a message to send to her fellow-scholars. The child replied, "Tell them to say 'Yes' to Jesus."—Mrs. Bradstock's Service, March 14, 1875.

AY "yes" to Jesus when He calls;
He'll ask for nothing but His due;

Yea, listen to His soft footfalls;
No truer friend will call on you.

Who can do more than He has done?
Who can show greater love for thee?
Who, for thee, greater blessings won,
Or who can offer them more free?

Ah! if you knew what He endured
For thee, His sufferings how great,
What by His death for thee procured,
You would not keep Him at the gate;

But, hearing His approaching feet,
Wouldst throw the portal open wide-
Nay, eager thy dear Lord to meet,
Wouldst hasten to the highway side.

What comes He for? To calm thy fears,
The fears of conscience for thy sin;
To speak thy pardon, dry thy tears,
And breathe a holy calm within.

To cleanse thy heart, renew thy mind,
Give love for Him a fuller flow;
Reveal Himself that thou may'st find
A foretaste of heaven's joy below.

What for all this are His demands?
Wouldst thou not for this from life part?
Yet fear not-trust thee in His hands;
He only asks thee for thy heart.

An Angel Unawares.

HAT'S the matter now, Mary?" asked Reuben Earnshaw, when, one evening after he had put up the shutters of his shop, he went into their little back parlour, and found his wife with the

traces of recent tears on her cheeks.

Reuben had been a weaver; but he was one of those energetic men who seem as though they were made for the very purpose of getting on in the world. His wife, too, was

just the kind of woman to help him. She was thrifty and industrious, and though by no means niggardly, she never spent a useless penny. Besides, she was one of those people who have the happy knack of always seeing the bright side of everything. Reuben had been in the habit of helping Peter Benson, who had the shop before him, in the evenings, and he had in that way gained an insight into the business. There was nothing about it to which he did not feel quite equal, and so he made an offer to Peter Benson's executors, which was accepted. He had found it necessary to borrow a little money, as his own savings were scarcely sufficient, but he had paid that off, and he had every prospect of success.

Although,, however, things were thus prosperous with Reuben Earnshaw and his wife, they had their troubles. They lost several children in infancy;, but the greatest trial of all was the loss of their only surviving child, a daughter, who had been carried off after a few days' illness. It was two years ago, but they had neither of them forgotten their loss. Mary especially felt it very keenly..

I do not think that their troubles had as yet exerted on them the right influence. Long before he began business, Reuben had given up attendance on religious worship, and from the beginning of the year to the end he never opened his Bible. His wife had been better inclined, and long after Reuben had given up going to chapel she had gone alone. But the cares of her family had prevented her; and Reuben liked in summer to have a stroll on the Sunday afternoons, and in winter either to have his friends in his own house or else to go and visit them. When their daughter died Mary would have liked to go to chapel again, and indeed she did go a few times; but Reuben was unwilling, and she soon ceased..

I am afraid Reuben was becoming very worldly-all the more so because of his child's death. His thoughts were quite absorbed in his shop, now that she was gone, and it seemed his one aim to get rich as soon as he could.

To Reuben's question as to the reason of his wife's tears, Mary replied, "I have just been to see poor Grace Hepper; and she has been telling me the doctor says there's no chance for her."

Grace Hepper had been a great friend of Mary Earnshaw ever since they were children, and had sat together in the same class in the Sunday-school. Her husband, who had worked in the same mill as Reuben, had died about five years before, leaving her with a family of four daughters. She had struggled hard to bring them up, and she had overtasked her strength. The eldest three had gone out to service, although one of them had kindly and dutifully given up her place that she might nurse her mother. The youngest,. Nelly, who was about eight years of age, still lived at home.

Mary had often gone to visit her friend in her sickness; and she had besides rendered her a good deal of kindly help, which Grace had acknowledged very gratefully.

"Poor body!" said Reuben; "what a pity it is! She's a nice, decent woman, and she has had a hard fight for it. And there was not a better man in the whole mill than poor Ned, although he was a bit over-religious."

Edward Hepper had been a thoroughly consistent Christian, whom all his fellow-workmen had held in great respect. Now and then he had spoken kindly to Reuben concerning his neglect of God's house, and had tried to persuade him to spend his Sundays better. Reuben's conscience had often told him that his friend was right; but he had held on in his own way.

"There's one thing troubles her," said Mary. "Her three eldest are fine, steady lasses, and they can make a living for themselves. They'll miss their mother, however; and though the home is only a poor one, they'll feel very sad when it's broken up. But poor little Nelly she does not know what is to become of her. I think she has almost made up her mind that there's nothing for her but the workhouse, and she can't bear to think of that."

"I hardly see what else there is for it," said Reuben.

"There are no relations on either side who can take her, are there ?"

"I will tell thee what I have been thinking, Reuben," "Could not we take her?"

said Mary.

"We !" exclaimed her husband; "nay, hardly, I think. I would not mind helping a bit; but thou hardly knows what thou's thinking about-to take, for good or bad, somebody else's child; and there's no telling how she'll turn out."

"She's just like what our little Polly was when we lost her," said Mary; "and it would go to my heart to let her be sent to the workhouse. I don't think Grace Hepper, poor as she was, would have let our Polly go there."

Mary Earnshaw felt that if she only had Nelly Hepper, it would be almost as if she got her darling Polly back again.

That last appeal went home to Reuben's heart. He would think about it, he said. But Mary had gained her point.

As they sat at breakfast next morning, he said to his wife, "Well, Mary, thou'st set thy heart on having that little lass of Grace Hepper's; so thou may'st just take thy own way. After all, the main of the trouble will fall on thee."

Mary put on her bonnet, and hastened to Grace's cottage, and told her that if she liked to commit Nelly to her care, provided she behaved herself well-and she believed she would-she would try to be a mother to her.

"Thank God!" exclaimed Grace. "He has heard my prayers. I can now die in peace. And thank you, Mary; and thank Reuben. I could not ask you, but I have all along had it in my mind that maybe you would do it. God reward you!"

But when Mary Earnshaw had gone, the thought arose in Grace's mind how sadly indifferent Reuben and Mary were about the greatest matters of all; and, above all things, she had desired that her children should become true followers of Jesus. What if, through her being intrusted to Reuben and Mary, Nelly became careless about salvation? Yet she