From Death into Life, and Yet not I, by the Rev. W. Haslam (cheap edition in boards). All these can be obtained through the BookRoom for about fifteen shillings; and I venture to say that it would be difficult to lay out fifteen shillings to better advantage. Of course there are many other books as suitable as those named above, and a Tract Library might well number fifty or one hundred volumes.

The circulation of infidel and directly anti-Christian books and pamphlets is immensely on the increase, and there is an everincreasing supply of inane or sensational stories at a cheap rate. Surely we ought to place good, pure, sensible books within reach of our poorer brothers and sisters, many of whom would gladly avail themselves of the benefits of a Library of this kind, even if it involved, as in some places it well might, a small subscription. Bad books are often read simply because good ones are not easily obtained.

PSALM LXXXIV.

O HOW amiable are
Thy abodes, great God of war !
How I languish through restraint!
How my longing spirits faint!
Lord, for Thee I daily cry;
In Thy absence hourly die.
Sparrows there their young ones rear;
And the summer's harbinger
By Thy altar builds her nest,
Where they take their envied rest.
O my King! O Thou Most High!
Arbiter of victory!

Happy men who spend their days
In Thy courts; there sing Thy praise!
Happy who on Thee depend!
Thine their way, and Thou their end,
Who through Baca travelling,
Make that thirsty vale a spring;
Or soft showers from clouds distil,

IN

And their empty cisterns fill;
Fresh in strength their course pursue
Till they Thee in Sion view.
Lord of Hosts, incline Thine ear,
O Thou God of Jacob, hear!
Thou our Rock, extend Thy grace;
Look on Thy Anointed's face.
One day in Thy courts alone
Far exceeds a million.
Let me be contemned and poor,
In Thy temple keep a door,
Than with wicked men possess
All that they call happiness.
O Thou Shield of our defence !
O Thou Sun, Whose influence
Sweetly glides into our hearts!
Thou, Who all to Thine imparts !
Happy! O thrice happy he,
Who alone depends on Thee!
GEORGE SANDYS.*

A VOLCANIC ERUPTION IN HAWAII.

BY C. F. GORDON CUMMING.

N August, 1855, there occurred the most awful eruption on record. It commenced near the summit of Mauna Loa, and you can easily understand that when a flood of liquid rock boils over its * The author of this version of the Eighty-fourth Psalm was the son of Archbishop Sandys, of York, in which city he was born in 1577; he was a great traveller, and in middle life settled in America, where he died in 1644.

mighty cauldron at so tremendous a height as fourteen thousand feet above the sea, the position of persons living at the base of the mountain is not one of enviable security.

In the present instance, it overflowed in a stream of sufficient volume to overwhelm the whole town and harbour. In some places it was three miles wide; then, finding more level ground, it expanded into lakes from five to eight miles broad; then, parting, it formed a network of rivers, burning their way through the forest, and leaping precipices in a succession of cataracts and rapids.

One hideous feature of this period of horror was the pollution of the rivers, which became so impregnated with pyroligneous acid, draining from the vast tracts of burnt forest, that the water in many of the streams, and even the Wailuku River, became as black as ink, and so offensive in smell that it was impossible to use it for the supply of town or ships.

For six months this lava-flow advanced steadily towards Hilo. Day by day parties went up from the town to report on its progress, anxiously scanning its approach to such ravines and valleys as would have offered a natural seaward channel. Great was the alarm of all when it was found that the overwhelming flood had arrived within six miles of the town, and that there was apparently nothing in the nature of the ground to check its steady onward progress straight to the sea.

Then all the people assembled in the churches to humble themselves exceedingly before the Lord of the universe, entreating Him that He would be pleased to turn away His terrible river of fire, and preserve the homes of His people. You may well believe that there were no half-hearted, sleepy worshippers in those congregations, but all with one voice united in such true and earnest prayers as are never offered in vain.

That cry for help and protection was heard in heaven, and answered speedily. At the very moment when danger seemed most imminent, and it appeared as if nothing could avert the destruction of the town, the danger was most literally turned aside. The course of the river was most unaccountably diverted; and though the great roaring furnace on the mount continued in full blast for twelve months

more, not one foot nearer to the town did the flood come. It gushed out laterally in streams sixty miles in length, depositing millions of tons of lava along the track of the flame, and covering nearly three hundred square miles of land.

In the course of this eruption Mr. Coan made frequent expeditions to the scene of action. He followed the course of the fire river. By its brink immense trees were burning as they stood, others had fallen

and lay blazing on the ground. Higher up the mountain, the river flowed subterraneously for upwards of ten miles; but here and there he came to openings from twenty to one hundred feet in diameter, down which he could peer into the awful scene beneath him. At one point he reckoned that the river ran down a declivity of from ten to twenty-five degrees, its velocity being fully forty miles an hour. He traced this river to its apparent source-a series of cones formed over a great fissure in the mountain; but so insecure was the ground, so deadly the gases, so great the heat, that it was impossible to look down this horrid chimney. At midnight, chilled by the drenching rain, he and his native attendant camped under a large tree within ten feet of the flowing lava, and only elevated three feet above it, boiling their kettle and frying their ham on the red-hot lava. All night they kept awful vigil, nor did they forsake their post till the fire-flood had closed around them on three sides and their sheltering tree was ablaze. At another point they camped near the brink of a river, and watched a fearful conflict of the elements, the fiery cataract pouring over a precipice of about forty feet into a basin of deep water, which boiled and raged in vain, and was gradually all converted into steam.

At sunset the water in that rock basin might have floated a large ship; in the morning it was all converted into steam: the basin was filled up with solid lava, and the precipice was changed into a gently sloping plane.

As the lava-stream crept seaward it moved more sluggishly, being at a distance of about fifty miles from the still active fountain, and it was a hideous sight to see it lazily spreading itself in vast contorted coils and pools, whose lustrous, glassy-metallic surface was seamed with red, showing how ready for mischief was the uncooled stream below. And many a time the glittering crust gave way to the pressure within, and the red fusion burst out with an impetus which made the too curious spectators flee from the intense heat.

In the course of its wanderings this lava-flow travelled about sixty miles, and overspread nearly three hundred square miles of desert land.*

PSALM CXVI. 1, 2.

BY THE REV. ARTHUR BRIGG.

'I love the Lord, because He hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because He hath inclined His ear unto me, therefore will I call upon Him as long as I live.'

I love the Lord,

And thus record

In holy Psalm my holiest joy:

The highest bliss
Of life is this;

It shall in heaven my powers employ.

* Reprinted, by permission, from Fire Fountains (Blackwood and Sons). The story of another remarkable deliverance from similar peril also in answer to prayer is recorded in a subsequent chapter of the same work.

ON

RECENT DEATHS.

N July 20th, ELIZABETH PAYNE, wife of the Rev. Frederick Payne, of Rhyl. She was born on the 19th of January, 1804, and early rejoiced in God's salvation. During her long life she became greatly endeared to a large circle of friends. We are glad to know that a memorial of her life will probably be published before long. The 'memorial-eard' issued by her husband is so beautiful and appropriate, that we reproduce it here:

"Chosen of God and precious" (1 Peter ii. 4).-" Approved in Christ" (Rom. xvi. 10).—“A vessel sanctified for the Master's use (2 Tim. ii. 21)." Having from a child known the Holy Scriptures" (2 Tim. v. 15).—"I hear what God hath said, I ask Him for it, I believe it, I have it : these were her own words.-By her husband and children tenderly beloved and revered. To the poor a helper. -To the young an instructor and guide.-Loving all good people, she was beloved by all.-She dwelt "in the secret place of the Most High." Her communion with God was unbroken, and now in open vision she sees Him "face to face."

ANNIE BRATTON was the eldest daughter of William and Martha Bygott, of Ryehill, South Killingholme, Lincolnshire. She was born on the 6th of December, 1852, and had five brothers and four sisters, who were trained in wisdom's ways. When the sisters Martha, Maria, and Elizabeth were budding into womanhood, they were seized with consumption, and died within a short time of each other, at the ages of seventeen, nineteen, and sixteen years, leaving a bright testimony that they had died in the Lord. The stricken parents acquiesced in the will of their Heavenly Father, Whose wisdom and love were never doubted, and Whose parental right was not disputed. Annie, being now the only surviving daughter, became the centre of joyous anticipations; combining matronly judgment and tact in domestic duties, she was a valued help to her loving mother. On

November 10th, 1880, she was married to Mr. Bratton, jun., of Hackthorne Grange, near Lincoln, who, with his parents, are wellknown and highly-esteemed Wesleyan-Methodists. The alliance gave unmixed pleasure to both families, and proved one of deep attachment and mutual sympathy. A happy and useful career was predicted; but He Who 'knoweth all things' ordered otherwise.

Annie Bratton was a Methodist of the third generation; in her childhood she feared God. Her general deportment was characterized by a sobriety unusual for her age; an even temper and a thoughtful earnestness drew others towards her in close affection. Always ready to attend the means of grace, she began to meet in her father's Society-class, held in their own house, on April 13th, 1864; and leaving home for her education to be completed at Dr. Aldom's, of Leyton, the Class-meeting was regularly attended. Upon her return home she at once became a Sunday-school teacher at Ulceby. The duties were discharged with fidelity so long as her health permitted.

As to her religious experience she was very reticent, her transparent sincerity and anxious solicitude to be thoroughly right, leading to great self-depreciation and some despondency. Tenderness of conscience and a fear of death gave her, at times, unnecessary pain, and deprived her of much spiritual comfort; but in one of her later letters to a friend, confidence of final triumph was expressed. 'I know,' she says, 'that if I honour God by trusting Him during my life, He will give me strength to do so at the point of death.' Those who knew her best, most admired her Christian deportment. Private devotions were her delight. Hymn 375 in our Hymn-book was a great favourite, especially the second verse. Her daily prac

tice was to read the Scriptures upon her knees; and a well-marked Bible shows how she meditated upon the Word of God. She was a member of the Methodist Bible and Prayer Union, and much prized the Monthly Notes as aids to a devout understanding of the truth. In her short but severe illness, her self-control, calm confidence in God, and resignation to His will, coupled with deep gratitude to her attendants, filled them with admiration. She lamented having done so little for her Saviour, frequently saying, 'I have not confessed Jesus as I should have done.' When asked if there ever was a time when she did not love the Saviour, she waited a moment as if to reflect; then with emphasis said: 'No, there never was a time when I did not love Jesus; and He will help and save me now. I will cling to Jesus; and if I perish, it shall be clinging to Him.' A short time before she passed away, she asked for her medical attendant, who was quickly by her bedside;