balmy air of spring. earth began to be clothed in verdure. Hopes were entertained that Ella might once more be restored to health, but still she longed to be gone, for she had experienced enough of life's ills, and her sensitive spirit, wounded and deceived, thirsted for a purer spring. Although the memory of the past was wrought with bitterness, and her sun went down so early in its course, yet there gathered no terrors round the tomb, for she saw it spanned with faith's bow of promise, shedding from its celestial arch, a halo of glory, betokening the dawn of an eternal day. Peacefully as evening shadows fall, so quietly did Ella fall esleep in Jesus, and her happy spirit was united to the loved ones gone before.

Nature smiled again and the

"Oh! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest,
Where they promise a glorious morrow;

They'll shine o'er her sleep like a smile from the west,
From her own loved home of sorrow!"

A SCENE FROM REAL LIFE.

IN the summer of 1852, I visited an American family in Boston, who had been reduced from comparatively easy circumstances to abject poverty. This was not occasioned by sickness, failure in business or any of the common vicissitudes of life. The cause of their suffering was Intemperance, that giant evil of our age. Without detailing the successive steps of their degradation, I will only describe the last scene of the mournful tragedy. Read, then ask, Who is to blame?

'Twas Sabbath evening, calm and beautiful!

From the western sky, the hallowed light

Was fading fast, and nature seemed to rest.

The heavens grew bright with stars, that cast abroad
Their pure effulgence on the tranquil night.
At length the moon, the glimmering landscape
Did illume with her celestial brightness :
Telling of purer worlds above the sky.

I stood beside with the dying!

Oh, 'twas a fearful sight, to see the exit
Of the guilty soul! The half-raised curtain
Opened a scene unlike to that without.
There, tossing on a lowly bed, I saw
A female form, in agony intense,

Up rolled her glassy eyes with meanless glare,
And with extended arms, she strove in vain,
To drive away the hovering demons

That were haunting her delirious brain.

While ever and anon she shrieked aloud,

"Ah see! they come! Oh drive them hence away!' And then she raved, and tore her matted hair, Till nature sank, and back again, upon

Her pillow, panting, she lay.

'Twas then, close to her bed, her little ones, Mute with astonishment, drew near and gazed Upon her. There had been a time when she, With fondest care, had taught their lips to pray, -And with them to the house of God had gone.

Ah! what had wrought this change? RUM! by licensed Vender sold!

An hour had passed. Then came the messenger
Of Death. He had set his seal! She gave one throe
Of mortal agony, and all was o'er!

THE GOODNESS OF GOD.

GOD is revealed to us in the three departments of Creation, Providence and Grace. In them successively is unfolded the infinite riches of his wisdom, power and love.

First, as Creator. In our physical organization we present indubitable marks of infinite skill and boundless benevolence. We are endowed with sensations, that, in their normal state, confer exquisite happiness. The delicate net work of nerves were made to thrill with pleasure, the eye to be delighted in seeing, and the ear to be charmed with the concord of sweet sounds. We breathe the clear invigorating morning air, and our whole body rejoices; we bathe in the clear, pure waters of the sea, and each of the three hundred thousand millions of pores in our skin drink in the life-giving, refreshing influence it imparts. Man is truly "a harp of a thousand strings," and it is wonderful it keeps in tune so long. We are moreover placed in a world adapted to the development and enjoyment of our faculties.

In the words of Hamilton, that gifted preacher in London, "Man has an eye for the sublime and beautiful, and his kind Creator has provided man's abode with affluent materiels for their nobler tastes.

Had he meant it as a mere lodging, a less beautiful

world would have served the purpose. There was no need for the carpet of verdure, or the ceiling of blueno need for the mountains, the cataracts, the rainbow or flowers. He has built not a workhouse, but a palace, not a barrack, but an Alhambra. He has entoned Niagara's thunder, and breathed the zephyr that sweeps its spray; he made a world of fragrance and music, a -world of brightness and symmetry, where the grand and the graceful, the awful and lovely rejoice together."

We are filled with amazement, at the power combined with wisdom that formed this earth. Nothing escaped the Creator's notice on account of its minuteness. While he hung in the heavens the brilliant ring of Saturn, more than six hundred thousand miles in circumference, he also provided the sparrow's home, and numbered the hairs of our heads. Everything tells us of God-of Love! The alternation of winter and summer, spring-time and harvest, tell us of God's goodness; earth with her mines of exhaustless wealth, air and sky are forever telling "God is love." Again, man's intellectual wants are also abundantly provided for. He is but a "little lower than the angels," and as he gazes up into the illimitable expanse above, heaven's blue tent, or out on the broad deep bosom of the sea,

"The throne of the Invisible,
The image of Eternity!"

he finds abundant materials for study and thought. If he meets with obstacles in his vast researches into mind and matter, they only add fresh zeal to his