Back-Lane Court.

T was a low, crowded court, reached from the thoroughfare above by a flight of stone steps. The houses in it were small and old, and really

unfit for habitation; and the fact that such an unhealthy, disreputable-looking spot was to be found in the midst of their pretty and aristocratic town was one of which the greater part of the wealthier inhabitants were ignorant.

To Back-lane Court, on a certain Sunday afternoon, a servant of the Lord Jesus entered; but he knew that to attempt at once to gain admittance into the houses which surrounded it would be worse than useless; he would get nothing but a decided repulse. And yet Mr. B. had a message to deliver-a message of love from the Almighty Saviour―a message which dying souls in Back-lane Court needed as much as others; how then could he leave it untold? A happy thought struck him, and with a prayer for Divine guidance, he resolved to carry it out.

If he might not tell the glory of the Cross, he certainly might sing it; and standing there in the centre of the court, Mr. B. commenced singing one of those hymns which contain so much of the Gospel of God's love.

It was a sound which had seldom, if ever, been heard there before. The drunkard's song was common enough, but the "old, old story" was an unaccustomed tale to the poor loiterers about the court; and as our friend continued to sing, the people gathered at the doors and at the corners, and listened attentively, with some surprise and curiosity.

At the close of two or three simple hymns, Mr. B. walked quietly away; but on the next Sunday afternoon he persuaded two or three Christian friends to go with him, and together they commenced to sing the same style of hymns as Mr. B. had done a week previously. This time the inhabitants seemed to be less astonished, and some of the women brought out chairs from their cottages for the

visitors, and gathered round to hear the singing. A few kind words were spoken when the chairs were returned, and from this time our friend found no difficulty in gaining admittance to the homes of the people, and speaking to them about their souls. Some listened eagerly, and there is reason to believe that a Divine blessing accompanied the truth thus lovingly set before them.

One young woman, who had been accustomed in her youthful days to attend Sunday-school, was very much affected, and was easily induced to attend a mission service held in the town. She went several times, and it appeared that the Holy Spirit applied to her heart the truth so long neglected, but now heard again. Mr. B. had reason to believe that her heart was really changed, and that by faith in Jesus, she had indeed been born again, and become a member of the kingdom of God.

When he called one day, however, he found her weeping bitterly, and learnt, upon inquiring the cause, that her husband was prejudiced against religion; that he had beaten her upon her return from the service, and sternly forbidden her to go again. She begged her friend to tell her what she ought to do.

"You must pray for him," advised Mr. B.; "that is all you can do at present. I will pray for him too."

Truly God does hear and answer believing prayer! He heard these prayers; and before very long the husband relented, and even consented to accompany his wife to the meetings. They both now regularly attend the means of grace, and the wife believes that when she makes a public profession of her faith in Christ, it will not be alone.

But, alas! we must turn to a darker picture.

Jane C. was one of the first to welcome Mr. B. into her house, and she appeared for some little time to take an interest in all he had to say. But, after awhile, it became evident that the truth had no abiding place in her heart and life. She became offended, because she heard of some charity, in which her visitor was interested, being bestowed

on some needy families in the court, whilst hers was passed over because she was not destitute, and her husband earned good wages. But Jane C. was very angry; she loved money for the sake of the drink which it would buy, and of which she was so fond; and when Mr. B. called again the door was slammed in his face. A little time after he met her in the street, and reasoned with her; but she was still in a bad temper, and would hardly listen.

"Why did not you give me some of them tickets?" she asked, doggedly.

"They were not intended for such as you. You do not surely mean to tell me that you wished to have them, when there are so many poor people around you who need them more?"

She remained sullen, and when another attempt was made to reach her conscience she walked away; and Mr. B. could not help thinking, very sorrowfully, that her heart was still untouched.

Not many days after, he was shocked to hear that Jane C. was dead. She had fallen from a ladder, or something of that sort, when supposed to be in a state of semi-intoxication, and had hurt her head so much that, when picked up, life was found to be extinct. Who could think of her sad end without remembering also that Divine prophecy, so often fulfilled, "He that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy." 1

These facts surely need no comment of mine. Surely, oh, surely, they speak for themselves. We read in the Bible that the Word of God is to some persons the savour of "life unto life," and that to others it becomes, through their sin and wilful neglect of its holy teaching, the savour of "death unto death."

Does not the story of Back-lane Court illustrate this? But, reader, we must press the question nearer home, and intreat you to ask yourself which of these things it has been 1 Prov. xxix. I.

to you.

Doubtless you have often heard of Jesus; His Spirit may many times have striven with you; the sound of the Gospel may be very familiar to your ears. But, ah! this is not enough. It is fearfully possible to be very near to the kingdom of heaven and yet be lost. What think ye of Christ? Is He your Saviour, your Redeemer? Is His name precious? Is His Spirit honoured? Oh, remember that blessed Spirit will not always strive.

But now He strives, now the door of heaven is open and you may press in. Clinging to Jesus, trusting in Jesus, hidden in Jesus, Satan cannot rob you of salvation-the hosts of hell cannot drag you from your sure place of refuge. No matter what your sin has been, the blood of Jesus can make you clean; His righteousness will avail for you, so you by faith accept it. For, blessed be God, it is gloriously possible to be very near to perdition, and yet saved by Jesus.

Vanity of Earthly Things.

H

ow vain is all beneath the skies!

How transient every earthly bliss!
How slender all the fondest ties

That bind us to a world like this!

The evening cloud, the morning dew,
The with'ring grass, the fading flower
Of earthly hopes are emblems true-
The glory of a passing hour.

But though earth's fairest blossoms die,
And all beneath the skies is vain,
There is a brighter world on high,
Beyond the reach of care and pain.

Then let the hopes of joys to come
Dispel our cares and chase our fears;
If God be ours we're travelling home

Though passing through a vale of tears.

PRATT.

received Him not."1

E came unto His own, a gentle infant child,

HE

But on His lowly birth no earthly comforts smiled; A stable was His birth-place, a manger was His cot,

No room for Him was found, "His own received Him not."

And childhood's years roll'd on-oh, who may dream or say
How, to that heav'n-born child, those hours pass'd away?
Did glimpse of future agonies o'ershadow His young heart-
Or had the harmless joys of youth within His breast a part?

We only know He bow'd His pure and spotless soul,
Beneath His earthly parents' care, and own'd their just control,
E'en while with holy majesty He bade their fears be still,
"Nay, wist ye not that I must now My Father's work fulfil ?"

And when to do that work, forth in the world He went,
Alas! that every heart was not in grateful homage bent!
"He came unto His own "-He blessed and sooth'd their lot,
Yet scorn'd and homeless He pass'd on, "His own received Him
not."

Still calmly He pass'd on-Heaven's glories in His eye,

Still calmly He pass'd on-to suffer and to die!

Oh! when we read the mournful tale of His sad earthly lot,
We maryel that that Holy One "His own received not."

Yet marvel not, e'en now the same cold hearts are found,
And in the daily walk of life our pathway they surround;
And let us look within,-let grief our bosoms fill,
For ah! to us He comes, and we reject Him still.

He comes unto His own, clad in a lowly guise,
Sick, sorrowful, and prison'd too, before our sight He lies;
We cannot see our Saviour in that sad and weary lot,
And we turn from Him away,

66

'His own receive Him not."

But ah! the end is near! time draws unto its close,

The warning of that coming Day o'er earth a shadow throws;
Again that once-despised One unto His own will come,

To be received with holy joy, and bear them to their Home.

1 John i. II.

H. P.