drawings by old masters which are hung there.

The very hasty glance I gave them renewed my old feelings of delight; nor do I believe that the study of even those most finished productions of art, which satisfy the soul and leave it nothing further to desire, can ever detract from the enjoyment of these suggestive sketches, which leave so much to the imagination.

In the one case we seek out the thoughts and feelings of the painter; in the other we let loose our own.

I left the Art Treasures Exhibition at last, deeply im pressed with the fact, that such a treat as it affords had never before been seen in my generation.-M. G.

PRAYER.

'My child,' said a father to his son, 'here are seeds of various kinds for your garden; keep the ground free from weeds and hurtful insects, and water it diligently every day, and in due time you will see them spring up and grow into beautiful trees and flowers.'

With joy the gift was received, the seeds were carefully sown, and with eager impatience the boy waited to * them grow.

Days and weeks passed by, and gradually here and there appeared little tender green seedlings, so small st first as to be scarcely visible, but quickly growing to a goodly size.

But the boy looked discontentedly on his garden, for his choicest seeds-those for whose growth he had chiefly longed-showed no signs of life; while among those which had sprung up were so many of the commonest flowers that grow, that he esteemed them little better than weeds, and doubted whether they had really sprung from the seeds which his father had given him; it seemed more likely (he thought) that they had come up there of themselves, for they were but such common flowers as may be plucked under the hedges or on any waste piece of ground.

'They are worthless,' he murmured to himself, as he turned from them, and these, my most precious seeds, from which I hoped so much, will never grow.'

Still for a time he hoped on, watering daily the ground where his seeds. lay buried, and watching over it with anxious, though ever lessening hope. And still day after day passed by, bringing with it nought but disappoint

ment.

'It is all in vain,' he exclaimed at last, 'I have done all my father bade me; I have watered and cared for my seeds, I have had long patience, but all has been in vain. They are altogether dead, I will hope no longer.'

And he was turning away in despair, when his father's hand was laid upon him, his father's voice checked him. 'Foolish child,' he said, 'have you so little patience? The seeds were good; if you have watered and tended them as I bade you, they will surely grow.'

'I have been patient, I have waited and hoped these many weeks,' replied the boy, but it was all in vain, and I can hope no longer.'

In silence the father bent down, moving the earth gently aside from the spot where the seeds had been sown : his son the while stood by beholding.

'Foolish child,' once more said the father, 'look here.' And as the boy looked, his face crimsoned with mingled shame and joy, for there, but a little below the surface, lay the seeds sown so long ago, now no longer dry and withered, but swelling and bursting into life, sending forth delicate fibres of root beneath, while from each a tender shoot sprang upward, containing the first leaves of the plant, curiously folded and wrapped together.

Then the father spoke again. From the first day these were put into the ground, they began to swell and soften, and from that time to this they have never ceased to grow, first striking root downward, and after that putting forth this upward shoot, which, after a few days' more patience,

you would have seen above the ground. Did not I promise you that they would grow? Why did you not trust

me?'

The boy hung his head, and answered not.

Then his father turned to the other side of the garden, and spoke again. And these, which you have despised and neglected, because you deemed them common and worthless things, see how beautiful and fragrant they are! What though you may gather the like beneath the hedges and in the woods, what is more sweet and lovely than the violet and the primrose? I thought them some of my choicest flowers, and gave them to you for your joy and delight. It was both foolish and faithless to doubt that yonder seeds would grow, but what is it to despise such as these ?'

'Father, it is wrong, it is ungrateful,' murmured the boy in humble accents, but I knew not that these were from your hand. I have been impatient, unbelieving, ungrateful, yet forgive me and try me again, I will never more doubt your word or your love.'

Prayer, God's gift to man, to enable him to win every other 'good and perfect gift,' may well be compared to seed cast into the ground. Daily the Christian prays, and each prayer sent up from an honest and good heart,' has within it a principle of life, which, like the seed planted in the earth, begins at once to quicken and grow, though for a long season it be hidden from the sight of man. One thing is needed, that we persevere in our prayer, that we water our seed daily, otherwise its life will decay and perish.

There are two temptations which beset the Christian in his prayers.

1. The temptation to doubt and despair, if he do not see his prayers speedily answered.

2. The temptation to overlook, and, therefore, in some

measure, despise their fulfilment, so receiving God's gifts with ingratitude.

With regard to the first of these two. We are apt to think in our hearts, we have prayed long, many and many times, yet we find ourselves none the better. Earnestly we have sought for those good gifts and graces which we would fain see in our hearts-for faith, love, humility, patience, steadfastness-but in vain we have looked to see them grow, our hearts are hard and barren still, and hope is well-nigh dead within us, for our prayers have been all in vain.'

It is to such doubting and desponding hearts that we would speak a word of comfort. Take courage and persevere, hope on, for your hopes are daily drawing nearer to their fulfilment. Nay, it may be they are fulfilled, though you know it not.

Talk not of past prayers. The time is past, indeed, in which you uttered them, but your prayers are ever present with God; with Him is neither past nor future. Words spoken long ago, and now forgotten by you, entreaties (it may be) wrung out from depths of anguish, poured out with agonies of earnestness, agonies and anguish which are to you now but far-off memories, all these are not past with God, to Him they are as fresh and present as when the tears of penitence and desire still flowed from your eyes, and the words of longing prayer fell brokenly from your lips. You have not contradicted those prayers, rather, you have continued in them, though that great sorrow and brokenness of heart may have been healed long since, and yet now you are tempted to think that your prayers have passed from you in vain, because you do not see in yourself all that you desire and look for.

But never think this. Never think that past prayers can go for nothing. Every one of all those past prayers is stored up before God, 'a treasure in the heavens which faileth not,' hidden from your sight, indeed, for a little while, but to be revealed in God's good time.

Again: do not think that because you have received no answer to your prayers, therefore they are not granted. It may be far otherwise. Think how long the little seeds shoot and grow beneath the surface of the earth, before you see aught of them. Remember, the root must have

time to grow first. You do not despair in this case, why not trust your prayers in like manner? Read how Daniel fasted and prayed for three full weeks,' and at the end an Angel came to him, saying, 'Fear not, Daniel. for from the first day that thou didst set thine heart to understand and to chasten thyself before God, thy words were heard, and I am come for thy words.' From the first day his prayers were heard, and yet he was suffered to fast and pray on those twenty-one long days, before he knew that he was heard.

Be patient, therefore, and persevere in hope. Your answer is for an appointed season.' 'Though it tarry long, wait for it, for it will surely come, it will not tarry.'

2. But while you thus wait in hope and perseverance till that which you desire be granted you, take good heed lest you thanklessly overlook, meanwhile, the countless gifts which God's Hand is daily pouring out upon you Be diligently watchful to note well, and to acknowledge with thanksgiving, God's common gifts, the health and strength He daily sends you, the daily pleasures, comforts and necessaries of life, the beauty of nature, bright sunshine, moonlight skies, 'sweet talk with friends,' precious quiet times of solitude, 'thoughts of peace' shed into your heart, blessings on those around you in whose joy may rejoice, relief from pain, comfort in sorrow, above all, God's grace continually surrounding, defend upholding your soul. Who shall tell the number of Gods mercies? Truly they are more in number than the sand. Yet a loving heart will not lightly pass over one, nor receive it without thanksgiving; and while it gives thanks always for all things, it will find in these abundant tokens of God's love, the surest foundation of hope for all other things which it desires. He has heard me, He bas helped and blessed me hitherto, therefore will I trust Him for evermore, for 'His mercy endureth for ever.'

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Received with many thanks donations_to_the_fund for the Church Bells for Auckland, New Zealand, from E. E. J.-M. L.—H. C. Declined with thanks, 'Sketches of the Reigns of six French Kings.'

John and Charles Mozley, Printers, Derby.