to the exclusion of others. We may not wish them
introduced into that kingdom on other principles, or by other
instrumentalities, than those which God has recognized and appointed.
The great law which governs in relation to other matters is to govern
here. Whatsoever ye do or seek, do and seek, even the salvation of your
children, for the glory of God.'

And, now, in conclusion, allow me to inquire whether it be not owing to
this selfish feeling that so many parents, who nevertheless abound in
prayer for their children, fail in seeing those prayers answered? They
fail, not because they do not pray often and earnestly, but because they
desire the salvation of their children rather than a humble, holy,
self-denying walk with God on earth. They forget that the chief end of
man is to glorify God, and that the enjoyment of Him is an effect or
result of such a course.

The object of the writer is not to discourage parents in praying for
their children, not for a moment, only, dear friend, I show you "a more
excellent way." I would urge you to abound in prayer still more than you
do. Pray on--"pray always"--pray, and "never faint." But, at the same
time, pray so that you may obtain. AMICUS.

* * * * *

SUPERIOR REVERENCE FOR THE SABBATH IN SCOTLAND, as aptly
represented by the anecdote of the American geologist, who was walking
out for meditation one Sabbath day in Glasgow. As he passed near the
cottage of a peasant, he was attracted by the sight of a peculiar
species of stone, and thoughtlessly broke a piece of it. Suddenly a
window was raised, and a man's coarse voice reprovingly asked, "Ha! man,
what are ye doing?" "Why, only breaking a piece of stone." "An', sure,"
was the quaint reply, "ye are doing more than breaking the stone; ye are
breaking the Lord's day."

* * * * *

Original.

GLEANINGS BY THE WAYSIDE.--No. 1.

LOVE AND FEAR.

"Do with thy might whatsoever thy hand findeth to do."

I rose one morning, before six, to write letters, and hastened to put
them into the post-office before breakfast. It was a dark, lowery
morning, not very inviting abroad, for an April shower was then falling.

I had the privilege of depositing my letters in a box kept by Mr. D., a
thriving merchant, not very remote from my dwelling. As I entered the
store, Mr. D. expressed surprise to see me out from home at so early an
hour, remarking that he was sure but