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IN anchor is a good stay to a ship in a storm. What would the mariner do without it? So, hope in

God through Christ is a stay to the soul of the believer in the day of trouble, and without it would be in danger.

An anchor takes hold of something out of sight; so hope enters into the veil, and takes hold of things which are unseen to the carnal and natural eyes.

An anchor, when it takes hold of a rock or firm ground, holds the ship secure; so hope, taking hold of Christ, the Rock of Ages, preserves the soul from spiritual shipwreck.

An anchor would be of no use without the cable to which it is fastened; so hope without faith is of no use, avail the soul in time of need.

and cannot

An anchor, to be of service to the ship, requires skilful management; so does hope. It must be cast within the veil whither the Forerunner is for us entered.

B. KEACH.

H

With Christ.

IGH uplifted, two vile crosses
Showed afar a picture fair;

One late found in evil courses,
Suffered with the Saviour there.

Soon was witnessed sight so dreary

Two pale corpses side by side;
Freed at last, the poor one weary
With the loving Christ had died.

Angels bright his trial viewing,
Swift beheld its glorious close;
Life and strength and joy renewing,
With the Lord's his spirit rose.

Upon the silent strand,

And the soft light of evening

Steals o'er the listening land,

When the ships left their moorings
And sailed upon the sea,

As songs soared up the valleys
Of lovely Galilee.

Jesus is in the vessel,

Upon the solemn deep, And on a humble pillow

Is lying fast asleep;

A gloomy Question and a bright Answer.

N the banks of the river Gambia dwells the heathen tribe of the Jolas, whose funeral rites are somewhat remarkable, and worthy of a passing notice.

The body, washed, and robed in a country cloth, is brought out from the dwelling and propped upright against a tree; all the possessions of the deceased are then placed around it, while the relatives range themselves on the ground in front.

The nearest of kin then rises, and solemnly addresses the corpse.

"What makes you die? What has annoyed you? What has so vexed you as to make you leave the world and home and family?" No answer. Then again

"Look at these goods, the riches you have got together by your own industry! Why do you die? Why do you die?"

Past experience having doubtless proved the uselessness of waiting long for a reply, those who have guns fire a volley, and after burying the inanimate goods with the body, proceed to feast upon the live stock, usually consisting of goats and pigs.

We smile, perhaps, at the simplicity of the question, and pity the ignorance it betrays; but let the learned professors of all the sciences from all the universities in cultivated Europe attempt to enlighten this heathen inquirer, and how will they do it? Who can answer this question with authority worthy of belief? How account for the change which has come over the lately active frame, stolen away the strong will that ruled it, closed the eyes that flashed with animation and intelligence, and robbed the now senseless form of all that made it man, none know how, none saw whither ?

"Ah," saith one," he was old, the thread of life was spun out; he had lived long enough, and the condition called death must of necessity occur."

Or, "If not old, he had some disease, and was not strong enough to resist its influence."

Or, "He was wounded in battle, and fighting bravely had won all the honours life could give, and so he departed."

But the further questions naturally arise, “How happens it that the thread of life cannot spin on-on-on, always? How came disease to invade a healthy body? Wherefore arose ill-will and strife to make men careless of a possession so wonderful as human life? Why do you die?"

Is there an answer on any tombstone? Can anyone tell from observation, scientific investigation, philosophical research, natural phenomena, why and how these things began, and why every country, nation, tribe, and family on the face of the globe has its sad obituary, why no salubrious clime, no loving care, no hereditary vigour, no medicinal panacea, avails to hinder, sooner or later, the triumph of this destroyer?

If all lived a comparatively equal term, some plausible theory might have been invented to account for the cessation of life; but when side by side lie the hoary head of age and the curly locks of youth, the sickly invalid to whom life has long been a burden, and the young wife and mother, so bitterly deplored by those who need her love and care, the same event happening alike to all, surely the question has no answer from any natural cause; it seems altogether unnatural, and baffles human ideas of the fitness of things. Why do you die, O man, with your grand powers of usefulness and progress? O woman, with your beauty and love, and self-denial, born to bless and comfort! child of many hopes, heir, perhaps, to great possessions, centre of fond affections, why do you die? Ah, why?

Does any one presume to give a reason for this arbitrary law to which the human system is doomed, even in its fairest, highest development?

Yes, one, and but one; and if that reason be rejected death is a mystery, the grave a blank, and those who die had better never have lived at all.