The Visitor's Note Book.

COUPLE HEAVEN WITH IT.

AN aged Christian had paused to rest himself as he trudged along under a heavy load on a summer day. An acquaintance had just accosted him, when a splendid carriage rolled past, in which a haughty man rode whose whole appearance bespoke a life of luxurious case. "What do you think of the Providence of which you sometimes speak ?" said the acquaintance. "You know that that is a wicked man; yet he spreads himself like a green bay-tree. His eyes stand out with fatness; he is not plagued as other men; while you, believing that all the silver and gold is the Lord's, serving Him and trusting in His providence, and toiling and sweating in your old age, get little more than bread and water. How can you reconcile this with a just Providence ?"

The aged saint looked at the questioner with amazement, and, with the greatest earnestness, replied: "Couple heaven with it! couple heaven with it, and then ?" Yes, that addition sweetens many a bitter cup, and enriches many a poor lot. "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things that are seen, which are temporal, but the things which are not seen, which are eternal."

A MODEL MOTHER.

My mother was one of those gentle, soft-spoken, quiet little women who, like oil, permeate every crack and joint of life with smoothness. With a noiseless step, an almost shadowy movement, her hand and eye were everywhere. Her house was a miracle of neatness and order-her children, of all ages and sizes, under her perfect control, and the accumulations of labour of all descriptions which beset a great family where there are no servants, all melted away under her hands as if by enchantment. She had a divine magic, too, that mother of mine; if it be magic to commune daily with the supernatural. She had a little room all her own, where, on a stand, always stood open the great family Bible, and when work pressed hard, and

children were untoward, when sickness threatened, when the skeins of life were all crossways and tangled, she went quietly to that room, and, kneeling over the Bible, took hold of a warm, healing, invisible Hand, that made the crooked straight, and that rough place plain.

THE FRUIT OF THOUGHT.

ALEXANDER HAMILTON once said to an intimate friend: "Men give me some credit for genius. All the genius I have lies just in this when I have a subject in hand, I study it profoundly. Day and night it is before me. I explore it in all its bearings. My mind becomes pervaded with it. Then the effort which I make, the people are pleased to call the fruit of genius. It is the fruit of labour and thought."

THE EARLIER THE EASIER.

AN old man one day took a child on his knee, and talked to him about Jesus, and told him to seek the Saviour now, and pray to Him, and love Him. The child knew that the old man was not himself a Christian, and felt surprised. Then he looked up into the old man's face, and said: "But why do not you seek God?"

The old man was affected by the question, and replied: "Ah! my dear child, I neglected to do so when I was young, and now my heart is so hard that I fear I shall never be able."

HEAVEN.

HEAVEN is that part of space in which Jehovah affords more sensible manifestations of His unfading glory. It is the habitation of God, and the residence of angels and justified spirits.

Heaven is a place. The same predications in language are made of heaven as are made of any given place-to, at, and from. Jesus says, "I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am there ye may be also." "In my Father's house are many mansions." We are not to regard heaven as a mere abstraction-the home of abstract spirits only-because in that blessed abode the inhabitants are spoken of as walking, talking, singing, and praising. The bodies of those who were

taken from earth, caught up in a moment, stolen as gems from sight, must be somewhere. Our blessed Redeemer's body is somewhere. After the resurrection the bodies of the saints will be somewhere. They will occupy space. Heaven is the Christian's eternal home, his abiding place, his house not made with hands; a better country, even a heavenly. Heaven is a state. There saints are glorified, both soul and body. There shall we know as we are known, and see as we are seen. There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying.

Heaven is a state of stainless purity. Nothing unclean can enter there. Our souls must be washed in the abundant Fountain opened in the house of King David, and our bodies must lie in the grave until Jesus raises and purifies them, ere they can enter that realm of absolute purity. There shall be no sin in heaven,-" nothing that loveth and maketh a lie." God commands us to be holy, righteous, and perfect as He is. None can approach into His august presence without holiness of heart. And yet how regardless of this are the multitude! Sinners unthinkly and without consideration rush onward in their career into the very arms of death.

Heaven is a state of unspeakable joy. This is a consoling thought. There we shall meet with loved ones from whom we have been mysteriously separated. Our heart-wounds will then be healed, and causes for disappointment removed. Though here, like Lazarus, we may be poor, our portion with Him above will be infinite riches. There we shall recognise our honoured loved ones- "behold them face to face," and hold sweet conversation with them. This will be a meeting which will have no parting. There will be no extremes of heat and cold in that lovely land. "There shall be no night there, for the Lord God giveth them light;" hence there will be no need of the sun, or of the succession of night and day. There no dark night-shades will close in upon the face of those lovely plains. There shall be no "curse." Disease and pain shall not prey upon the inhabitants of that country, nor shall the King of Terrors reign there. There we shall reign with Christ, and be permitted to behold Him for ever "who hath redeemed us with His own precious blood." Then we shall join in the song of the angels and justified spirits in the magnificent temple of God. Brethren, this should encourage us to press onward to the mark of the prize.

QUESTIONS

TO THOSE WHO NEGLECT PRAYER-MEETINGS.

1. Are you always better employed? If not, is it well for you to absent yourself?

2. Do you get more good to your own soul, and do more good to others, by staying away? If not, can you be acting wisely?

3. Does your own conscience justify you, or have you not sometimes a difficulty in keeping it quiet on the subject?

4. Will a death-bed commend your present course, or will you then look upon your neglect of prayer-meetings with pleasure, think you?

5. Does your pastor suffer by your neglect? Does it hurt his feelings, cool his zeal, and hinder his usefulness?

6. Are not your fellow-members in the church discouraged by you, and may you not offend Christ's little ones?

7. Is not your own family injured by your neglect? What will your children think of prayer-meetings, secing you habitually neglect them? Is it surprising if they despise

them?

8. Is there no reason to fear that the unconverted may bo both hindered and led to think lightly of prayer by your conduct?

9. Can you have a proper concern for the prosperity of the Church, the spread of Christ's cause, and the conversion of sinners, if you never meet to pray for them?

10. And are you sure that you fulfil your duty as a churchmember while you neglect prayer-meetings? Is neglect of duty no sin, and is there no probability of your being called to an account for it?

11. Did anyone ever gain anything, either in spiritual or temporal things, by neglecting prayer-meetings? If you think so, can you prove it?

12. Is there no selfishness, or pride, or worldly-mindedness, at the root of your neglect? If so, ought such things to be encouraged?

13. Would it be right to give up the prayer-meetings? Do you think this would please God or improve the cause? But if all the members did as you do, must they not be given up? Could not the rest find excuses for staying away, think you, as well as you? Do you not think they would, if their hearts were as worldly, or as cold, or as indifferent about the prosperity of the cause, as yours appears to be?

REMARKABLE EFFECT OF A HYMN.

THE following remarkable effect of one of Phoebe Cary's Hymns is thus stated by a writer:

"A gentleman in China, entrusted with packages for a young man from his friends in the United States, learned that he probably would be found in a certain gambling-house. He went thither, but not seeing the young man, sat down and waited, in the hope that he might come in. The place was a bedlam of noises, men getting angry over their cards, and frequently coming to blows. Near him sat two men-one young, the other forty years of age. They were betting and drinking in a terrible way, the older one giving utterance continually to the foulest profanity. Two games had been finished, the young man losing each time. The third game, with fresh bottles of brandy, had just begun, and the young man sat lazily back in his chair while the oldest shuffled his cards. The man was a long time dealing the cards, and the young man, looking carelessly around the room, began to hum a tune. He went on, till at length he began to sing the hymn of Phoebe Cary, given below. The words, says the writer of the story, repeated in such a vile place, at first made me shudder. A Sabbath-school hymn in a gambling-den! But while the young man sang, the elder stopped dealing the cards, stared at the singer a moment, and throwing the cards on the floor, exclaimed

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Why, that you've been singing."

The young man said he did not know what he had been singing, when the elder repeated the words with tears in his eyes, and the young man said he had learned them in a Sundayschool in America.

"Come," said the elder, getting up; "come, Harry, here's what I won from you; go and use it for some good purpose. As for me, as God sees me, I have played my last game, and drank my last bottle. I have misled you, Harry, and I am sorry. Give me your hand, my boy, and say, that for old America's sake, if for no other, you will quit this infernal business."

The gentleman who tells the story-originally published in the Boston Daily News-saw these two men leave the gamblinghouse together, and walk away arm in arm; and he remarks: "It must be a source of great joy to Miss Cary to know that