E gladly take up the hearty greetings which thousands of lips have just uttered, and wish you, every one, "A Happy New Year." We will tru to speak a few "words in season," with the hope that the Holy Spirit may make them of use, to His glory. Let us talk of THREE NEW THINGS.

Not that we can say very much about the first of these. We know that spring will bring back the singing birds, and make the grass grow greener, and the buds burst forth; and summer days will be fragrant with the breath of summer flowers; that autumn, clothed in beautiful red and gold, will bring her fruits to crown the year with goodness; and winter, once more returning, will hush the earth to rest. Times and seasons revolve with certain steps; but what they will bring to us-joy or sorrow, health or sickness, life or death-we cannot tell,

You remember how you looked forward to the year just grown old. What visions of happiness passed before your eyes, what hopes you cherished, what plans you formed. Now, look back. Have not those visions faded, some of those hopes been disappointed, those plans failed? How many unexpected changes have happened: among your neighbours, your friends, your relatives.

So, what changes this new year shall witness, we know not. We only know that it will afford, to all whom the Lord shall spare, new means of doing either good or evil,

new opportunities to be either improved or neglected, new time for the service of one of two Masters Christ or Satan. That the time and opportunities thus given may be rightly used, we want you to have

THE NEW HEART.

1

"Is there anything wrong with my heart, then ?" one asks. Ah, yes, indeed, sadly wrong. From it comes every unkind word, every impure thought, every dishonest act, of which you have been guilty. Think of the pride, the selfishness, which you have shown, and you will acknowledge that the Bible describes your heart truly as deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked."2 So wrong, indeed, that nothing will do but to have that heart quite changed.

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There is only One who can change this old corrupt heart for us, and that One is not only able but wishful to do it. Listen to God's own blessed Word: "A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you." "3 And all may have this who seek it. Oh, then, come to Him, and ask Him, for the sake of Jesus the Saviour, to take your heart and make it new.

This new heart is, first, a clean heart. It was so at first, when God "breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life." But the tempter came, and sin followed, and the fair work of God was marred. You have watched the snow as it has descended from the heavens, white and beautiful, spreading over the earth a spotless carpet, which glistens in the sun; and you have seen how soon the smoke and dirt have soiled its purity, and it has lain all stained and trampled underfoot. So our hearts have been defiled and trodden down by sin. How shall we regain our lost purity? Even by the precious blood of Jesus, which can wash away all sin, and make the foulest clean. Let David's prayer be yours: "Create in me a clean heart, O God." "Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."

It is a coving, feeling heart. In God's Word, the old heart

1 Mark vii. 21.

2 Jer. xvii. 9.

3 Ezek. xxxvi. 26.

is called a "stony heart." Now a stone is hard, cold, unfeeling, without life. Just so are our hearts toward Him who made them and who has redeemed them. Surely if it

were not so, how could we bear the thought of all our Saviour's love to us and yet show no love to Him? How could we think of all His sufferings for our sake and yet be unmoved? Oh, truly the old heart is a stony heart. But the Holy Spirit can change it. He has promised to take away the stony heart and give a heart of flesh, that is, a tender, loving heart, full of sympathy for others, and full of love to God.

It is, therefore, a right heart, possessed by a "right spirit." In harmony with its Creator's will and design, it fulfils its high destiny, that is, to glorify Him. What a beautiful piece of mechanism is a watch. How nice the adjustment of wheels, springs, levers, and other delicate parts. Yet all these parts depend, for their right working, upon one springconcealed from sight-the mainspring. If that be out of order, all goes wrong. So, unless the heart be right, we cannot live a holy, useful life, to the honour of that Saviour who died to make us His. A watch with a bad mainspring will never be a credit to its maker; nor can the life of one whose heart is unrenewed bring glory to his God.

It is also a happy heart. And this is just what you want. Although sought in different ways, yet happiness is the one thing which all desire; and we can assure you that the only source of true happiness is the heart at peace with God, full of the love of Jesus, sanctified by the Holy Ghost. This is the true "sunshine of the heart:" that which made King David so often rejoice in the words of the Psalms, and which will lead us to sing with him

THE NEW SONG.

"He hath put a new song into my mouth, even praise unto our God." You will see, if you turn to the fortieth Psalm, that this is the song of the new heart.

1 I Cor. vi. 20.

And our song is not to end on earth. The new song is deemed worthy to resound across the Sea of Glass, and to mingle with the voice of angels. What a delightful thought! The holy beings who cluster round the throne, the harpers harping with their harps, the multitude which no man could number, all singing, as with the voice of many waters, the new, the everlasting song-" Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." But it must be learnt on earth. "No lips untaught may learn that song, or join the music there." Nor can anything that defileth enter through the gates of those "bright halls of song." No sin-stained soul may mingle with the blood-washed throng, but all shall be holy and clean in the New Jerusalem.

The Old Coachman.

N old man, who had conducted himself, as far as his employers were concerned, so respectably that they could find little fault with him, had grown too old to drive his master's carriage. Soon it was known that he was ill and must die. Grave thoughts pressed on many hearts concerning him, as he was known to hold infidel notions, and much prayer was made that the Holy Spirit would convince him of sin, and guide him into the truth as it is in Jesus.

The way seemed made plain for me to visit him. I therefore went, but doubting how he would like my message, though, as one of his master's nieces, he would probably be inclined to receive me courteously.

This he did; and in the course of a short conversation which followed he expressed his conviction that his life was

near its close. When asked if he was ready to go, he said, "Yes, in my way." He was reminded that there was only one way-not his, or ours, or any way of man's making, but that Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life; no man cometh unto the Father but by Me."

To my shame be it spoken, I was almost afraid to produce my Bible at first, and often introduced Bible words in our talk, or repeated passages, rather than appear to read from the book which the sick man professed to despise. God, however, is often graciously pleased to use weak instruments to do His work, and is better to us than our fears; and so it came to pass that though pride of heart evidently prompted the old man to justify himself in many ways, there was not the hardness and opposition that I had looked for, and there was no scoffing at the effort to do him good. There was even some anxiety evidently aroused. Among some notes of my visits I find the following entry : "T very ill in bed. He listened attentively to 'The Sunken Rock,' but avoided conversation as to his state of mind; he said he could answer no questions when remarks were made as to God's dealings with him or with any one. He would not believe what he could not see nor understand. I begged him to use the little prayer of long ago—' That which I see not teach Thou me,' and asked if he would tell me some of his difficulties, and I would try and help him to understand. I spoke to him of the worth of a soul; but he said he could not understand it."

On another occasion I repeated part of Isaiah lv., and told him of a sermon I had lately heard from the gospel narrative of the man with the withered hand. He said, "It is all plain enough." I said, "You will think over what I have been reading." He replied that he had plenty of time for thinking, but he did not think my coming did any good; religion could not be driven into him; still if I liked to come he was very glad to see me, but as long as he stayed in H- if there was any change in him no one should know it. Religion tied one down so. It was all a chance where