JUDGES viii. 4.

PAINT, yet pursuing." O Lord, Thou wilt hear
The sigh which, scarce breathed, still reaches Thine

ear.

I'm fainting, I'm weary, I'm sorely oppressed;
To Thee now I look, to Thee flee for rest.

Ofttimes I'm so weary I long to be free

From the thorn in the flesh which Thou sendest

to me.

My knees are so feeble, so hard seems the strife,
I fear I shall fail in the battle of life.

Yet whispers of love fall so sweet on mine ear,
In accents of tenderness chiding my fear;
Again I am taught that Thy promises sweet
Will the hour of our weakness most certainly meet.

Though "faint, yet pursuing," O Lord, I would be,
Entrusting my all to Thy loving decree;
Though the flesh may be weak, oh, strengthen me still
To say, "Even so, Father," and bow to Thy will.

And when in the furnace, oh, help me to see
The Lord of the furnace close walking with me;
Let my bonds be consumed by the heat of the fire,
And my soul thus at liberty heav'nward aspire.
Though clouds may arise 'twixt me and my God,
I feel that He makes me pass under the rod;
So, patient I'll stay myself on the loved name
Of Jesus, my Saviour, for ever the same.

My "hope as an anchor within the veil" cast,
My vessel must ride out the gale to the last;
My Jesus is near me, and His gentle hand
Will guide me safe home to the heavenly land.

So, "faint, yet pursuing," I long to be home,
But would patiently wait till my summons shall come;
The "
bright light in the cloud" may be hidden from me,
But soon where no clouds are, in bliss, shall I be!

There fainting. no longer, but resting in light,
What visions ecstatic will burst on my sight!
On Him who redeemed and refined me I'll gaze,
And join the glad song that is hymned to This praise.

By the ocean of glory in bliss when I walk
With friends gone before, with what rapture I'll talk
Of the love that has laid all my sorrows to rest,
And carried me safe to the home of the blest.

M.

Hold on! hold in! hold out!

FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHMOLKE.

OLD on, my heart, in thy believing-
The steadfast only wins the crown;
He who, when stormy waves are heaving,
Parts with his anchor, shall go down;

Hold out!

But he who Jesus holds, through all
Shall stand, though earth and heaven should
fall.

Hold in thy murmurs, Heaven arraigning--
The patient see God's loving face;
Who bear their burdens uncomplaining,
'Tis they that win the Father's grace;
He wounds himself who braves the rod,
And sets himself to fight with God.

There comes an end to sorrow;
Hope from the dust shall conquering rise;
The storm foretells a summer morrow;

The cross points on to paradise.
The Father reigneth! cease all doubt;
Hold on, my heart, hold in, hold out!

Little Dot.

THE SIMPLE MADE WISE.

CHAPTER VI.-SOWING SEEDS.

HE next week was very wet, and Dot's mother would not let her go into the cemetery. So she sat at home by the fire with her doll upon her knee,

wondering what her little girl was doing, and whether she was really in the sky. Then she listened to the rain pattering against the window-panes, and thought how wet the little grave would be, and how bare it must look, now there were no daisies upon it. Dot hoped very, very much that her little girl was not inside.

Every time that Solomon passed to and from his work, Dot was at the window to nod to him. He missed her very much this rainy weather, but he had to go on with his work in the cold and damp, just as usual. It was a great cheer to the old man to see the little face at the window, morning and evening -and sometimes Dot's mother was there too. Dot would pull her by the apron when she saw her old friend comingMother," she would say, "here's my Mr. Solemn !" And then her mother would run with her to the window, to see the old grave-digger pass.

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But as soon as the sunshine came, and the grass began to be dry, Dot was by Solomon's side again. She walked with him to the cemetery, but as soon as they reached the gates she ran quickly forward to look at her little girl's grave. But when she got to the place, she stood still in amazement. It looked quite different from what it did when she was there last. The sides of the grave were covered with nice soft grass, which looked green and fresh after the rain. Then the top of the grave was quite flat and smooth like a flowerbed, and in the middle of it was a small rose-tree.

Dot ran round the grave several times, to look at all these changes. Then she sat beside it, and patted the grass, and smoothed the mould, and admired the rose-bush.

After a time she went to look for Solomon, to tell him what she had found.

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Oh, Mr. Solemn !" she cried, "my little girl's grave is ever so pretty!"

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Yes," he said, "I know it is, Dot; a man came and did it a week ago I think it was the lady's gardener. I thought I wouldn't tell you, my little dear-you'd be more surprised like."

Oh, Mr. Solemn! did you see the rose-tree ?" "Yes, I saw it, Dot."

"Mr. Solemn, I know what I'll do; I'll put you a rosetree on your grave when you die—a real nice one, I will." The old man took her up in his arms and kissed her, and then he went on with his usual work.

It was a bright summer's morning not long after, when Dot saw the two little girls who had walked behind the lady and gentleman at the funeral coming in at the cemetery-gates. The elder of them had a green watering-can in her hand, and her sister had a small covered basket. Dot followed them at a little distance, and watched them going to the quiet corner of the cemetery.

But before they went in among the trees they turned round and caught sight of Dot. Their mamma had told them to look out for her, so they came back to meet her. "Are you Dot ?" said the elder sister.

"Yes," said Dot, shyly.

"Mamma told us about you," said Violet.

"And she thought you would help us," Ethel went on; "we're going to sow some seeds on Lilian's grave-aren't we, Violet ?"

"Yes," said Violet; "gardener wanted to do it, but papa says we may do it quite by ourselves. Come, Dot, you shall walk with us."

So the three children went hand in hand to the little grave.

It was a long business sowing the seeds; but when the little brown things were put safely in, and Dot had given the

earth a last pat with her hand, Violet said they must be watered.

66 Dot," she said, "where can we get some water ?"

Dot ran with the green watering-can to the pump near the cemetery-gates, and soon returned with the water, with which Violet carefully watered the earth where the seeds had been put in.

"They ought to be watered every day," she said; "gardener always waters his seeds every day; they won't spring up if they haven't enough water, will they, Ethel? What are we to do about it ?"

"Please, I'll do them," said little Dot.

"Oh! will you?" said Violet. plan; won't it, Ethel ?" "Yes," said her sister;

can."

“That will be a very good

"and we can leave Dot the small

“But you must hold it up as high as you can, Dot," said Violet, "and do it very gently, or you will wash the seeds out of the ground. Do you think you can manage?"

"Yes," said Dot, gravely, as though impressed with the greatness of her trust. "Will the little girl like them?" she asked as they walked away.

"What little girl?" asked Ethel.

"Your little girl," said Dot, nodding in the direction of the grave.

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What, Lilian?" said Ethel. "Yes, I'm sure she will like them if she knows. But then, you see, I'm not quite sure if she does."

"Perhaps Jesus will let her fly down and look at them," said Violet.

"Oh! I don't think she would want to come, Violet," said her sister; "she would have so many pretty flowers to look at up there."

"Then she is in the sky ?" said Dot, standing quite still and fixing her eyes earnestly on the two little girls.

"Yes," said Violet, in a shocked voice; "didn't you know that, Dot? But you're such a tiny little thing-isn't she, Ethel?"