WHEN SHALL I SEEK THE LORD?

the ills of life, who is destitute of true religion. Poor indeed, are the support and consolations of the world in the season of trial and distress. But the young believer has a source of adequate support and substantial happiness; the Redeemer's smiles, the promises of the gospel, and the consolations of the Spirit, will enable him to endure with submission, all the sorrows of life. Therefore piety is essential with respect to the present life. "Godliness is profitable to all things, having promise of the life that now is." Nay, while it affords a thousand pleasures now, it is the best, the only preparation for an early grave. Destitute of an interest in Christ, you are not prepared to encounter the "last enemy," not prepared to meet "the Bridegroom" at his coming. The design of all your religious advantages, is to bring you to love and serve God. The bible, christian sabbaths, gospel sermons, the throne of grace, and the prayers of pious friends, are all intended to bring you to such a state of mind; and such is the design of the pages you are now reading. Lay not this little book aside until you have sought by earnest prayer, converting grace, and have commenced the journey which conducts the soul to heaven.

"Religion should our thoughts engage,
Amidst our youthful bloom;
"Twill fit us for declining age,

And for the awful tomb."

WHEN SHALL I SEEK THE LORD?

ALL times are times to seek the Lord,
Whatever else you seek;

In seeking him is great reward,
Beyond what tongue can speak.

If health and happiness are yours,
'Twas he who gave you all;
Seek him-the joy he gives endures,
Whatever may befal.

Health may decay, and sorrow dim
The sparkling eye of joy;

But seek, and you shall find in him
Peace nothing can destroy.

In life to guide, in death to save,
O seek the Lord alone;

Through earth from sin, and past the grave,
He'll guard you as his own.

"THY KINGDOM COME."

"THY kingdom come!" From day to day We lift our hands to God and pray; But who has ever duly weighed,

Or pondered on the words he said?

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'Thy kingdom come!" O day of joy;
When praise shall every heart employ,
When hatred, strife, and battle cease,
And man with man shall be at peace.

Then all will know and love the Lord,
And live according to his word;
And every evil will remove,

For God will reign, and " God is love."

A PUZZLE.

Can you read it, and make poetry of it?

O may

Love by hearts those

United and mingled into

Fondly so vows the keep still, one
Plighted, and dream of them alone;
Ever for on shine love our may and
Like hopes undying ray, which
Misfortune dark or grief
Never, hath power
Chase to

Away.

.

SCENES OF "OLD ENGLAND."

"OLD England" has many pleasing scenes within her sea-girt shores. Her beautiful fields, and lovely orchards, and smiling gardens, and shaded green lanes, and sunny banks, and silvery brooks, and especially her old religious houses, with pointed spires rising over the gentle landscape, or the "ivy-mantled tower," surrounded by ancient trees which have cast their shadows over the remains of many generations, cannot but interest the passing traveller, and awaken recollections of by-gone ages.

We do not in these remarks wish to be understood as expressing any reverence for mere buildings-it is only to their outward appearance that we refer. We do not go back to ask who erected them, and what has been done in many of them for more than a thousand years. Were we to do so, with a Bible in our hand, and compare what has been there sung and said and done with the Word of God, we might find

much to disapprove, and but little to commend, for the greater part of the time they have stood.

Whilst, therefore, we may admire such scenery as we have described, we would not encourage superstitious reverence for places and things. Our blessed Lord having taught us that neither in this place only, or that place only, do men worship the Father-for "God is a Spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in Spirit and in Truth."

Every green sod of earth, and every drop of ocean, every ray of light, and every breath of air, belong to God, and are sacred to HIM whose temple is the Universe, and whose dwelling place is Eternity.

THE SQUIRE'S PEW.

BY THE LATE JANE TAYLOR.

A SLANTING ray of evening light
Shoots through the yellow pane;
It makes the faded crimson bright,
And gilds the fringe again:

The window's gothic frame-work falls
In oblique shadow on the walls.

And since those trappings first were new,

How many a cloudless day,

To rob the velvet of its hue,

Has come and pass'd away!

How many a setting sun hath made
That curious lattice-work of shade!
Crumbled beneath the hillock green
The cunning hand must be,

That carv'd this fretted door, I ween,
Acorn, and fleur-de-lis ;

And now the worm hath done her part,
In mimicking the chisel's art.

-In days of yore (as now we call)
When the first James was king,
The courtly knight from yonder hall
Hither his train did bring;

THE SQUIRE'S PEW.

All seated round in order due,
With broider'd suit and buckled shoe.

On damask cushions, set in fringe,
All reverently they knelt:

Prayer-books, with brazen hasp and hinge,
In ancient English spelt,

Each holding in a lily hand,

Responsive at the priest's command.

-Now, streaming down the vaulted aisle,
The sunbeam, long and lone,
Illumes the characters awhile
Of their inscription stone;
And there, in marble hard and cold,
The knight and all his train behold.
Outstretch'd together, are express'd
He and my lady fair:

With hands uplifted on the breast,
In attitude of prayer;

Long visag'd, clad in armour, he,—
With ruffled arm and bodice, she.

Set forth in order ere they died,
The numerous offspring bend,
Devoutly kneeling side by side,
As though they did intend
For past omissions to atone,
By saying endless prayers in stone.

Those mellow days are past and dim,

But generations new,

In regular descent from him,

Have filled the stately pew;

And in the same succession go,

To occupy the vault below.

And now, the polished, modern squire,

And his gay train appear,

Who duly to the hall retire,

A season, every year,

And fill the seats with belle and beau,
As 'twas so many years ago.