"No act falls fruitless: none can tell
How vast its power may be,

Nor what results unfolded dwell
Within it silently."

Like the rain drop of a million years ago, whose fossil steps are traced in the sandstone, so will the smallest of our actions leave traces behind for good or evil—if not visible in time-yet clearly visible in Eternity.

X.

PRAISING WORK.

"Thou shalt rejoice in every good thing which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee."-DEUT. xxvi. 11.

For what shall I praise thee, my God and my King,
For what blessings the tribute of gratitude bring?
For the spirits which heightened my days of delight,
And the slumbers that fell on my pillow by night?
For this I should praise thee; but if only for this,
I should leave half untold the donation of bliss.
I thank thee for sickness, and sorrow, and care,
For the thorns I have gathered, the anguish I bear,
For nights of anxiety, watchings and tears,

A present of pain, a perspective of fears.

I praise thee, I bless thee, my King and my God,
For the good and the evil thy hand hath bestowed."

"A cheerful expecter of the best, hath a fountain of joy within him; Ask for good and have it; for thy Friend would see thee happy."

MARTIN TUPPER

LIKE the disagreeable Christian, the gloomy Christian is an anomaly in grace. What a sad spectacle! a Christian who makes the young feel old, the old feel older,

the sad feel sadder,-who confirms the worldly in their worldliness! Christians, however, are never gloomy because they are too religious, as the world alleges, but because they are not religious enough. That is a striking combination in 2 Tim. iii. 2, "unthankful,—unholy;" and it will ever be found that the more thankfulness, the more holiness, the more happiness. Rise up, then, oh, believer! from your despondency; emerge from the dark shadow; do no more dishonor to your joy-loving Lord. Your heart ought to be as the glad welling fount in the midst of the fresh green grass. Let this rejoicing, fertilizing work be yours; it is the portion of the vineyard most neglected by the Lord's laborers, and yet it is of exceeding value, for "he that offereth praise glorifieth God." An eloquent modern writer has spoken to us of "the duty of delight,"*

"They tell us often to meditate in the closet, but they send us not, like Isaac, into the fields at even; they dwell on the duty of self-denial, but they exhibit not the duty of delight. It is not possible for a Christian man to walk across so much as a rood of the natural earth, with mind unagitated and rightly poised, without receiving strength and hope from some stone, leaf, flower, or sound, nor without a sense of a dew falling upon him out of the sky."-MODERN PAINTERS.

and it is a duty peculiarly appropriate to the Christian, upon whom all rich gifts and sweet influences are showered by a reconciled Father. Beautiful are the white and crimson clouds that "lie cradled near the setting sun" joyous the lark's melody, that riseth on the wings of the morning from the earth to the heavens; lovely the deep blue shadows cast by the golden sunlight; fresh and fragrant the flower of the valley, the green leaf of the forest; soothing the ripple-music of the river, and the chiming of the sea upon the shore. Go forth, then, amongst all that is rich and beautiful in nature, and thank Him, the beloved Son, by whom every bright, and lovely, and melodious thing was created. Go forth, also, amongst the treasures of art,—the forms of sculptured beauty, the harmonies of music,—the rich coloring of the life-like canvass,-the "marble letters and granite pages" of old stately architecture, and lift up your heart in praise to Him who hath put wisdom into the hearts of the wise-hearted, like unto the wisdom of Bezaleel and Aholiab.-(Ex. xxxi. 1-11.) Go forth, also, amongst those whom God

hath given to love you and to be beloved, and for every soul-thrilling glance, for every kindly sympathy and tender word, for all "sweet counsel," and precious unity, thank Him without whose love all earthly sympathy would have been but a name, all earthly tenderness would have been but as the foolishness of idolatry. Go back in memory to the days of "long ago," recall the wind tempered to the shorn lamb,-the strong wave of temptation breasted, the hurtful thing, to which your soul clung, removed out of your path, the right way chosen for you, instead of the wrong way which you had chosen for yourself,—the measure of affliction meted out which you required,—the friends selected whom your soul needed, breathing times granted which your tried and struggling spirit yearned for ;-oh, thank your God for it all. He it is who has been your guide through the waste howling wilderness, and the brightener of all green places with His smile. Go deep within the chambers of your soul; see there the bright hope smiling, and the light shining, and the new heart struggling, and the old sins stag

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