submission, she lost faith in the goodness of God, in His ever-watchful care, doubted the genuineness of her conversion, ceased to pray, to read her Bible, or to even think of seeking Divine guidance.

While in this pitiable state, circumstances made it imperative for her to visit the city of New York on a very painful matter of business. She was of a retiring disposition, unused to traveling, and had never been in a large city.

While on her journey, in the cars, a slight act of courtesy led her to make the acquaintance of a gentleman and his wife, who took her under their protection, and after their arrival in the city went out of their way to leave her at the entrance of a respectable hotel.

She ascended the stairs, oppressed with an almost overwhelming sense of loneliness, mingled with the consciousness of an utter inability to perform the unpleasant errand she had in hand. On being ushered into the capacious and elegantly furnished parlors, she walked, mechanically, to a centre-table, and opening the single book which lay on the marble top, her eye fell upon these words, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."

An emotion of tenderness, born of her old-time love of God and trust in His promises, suddenly stole into her heart. Still bending over the precious book, the gathering tears beginning to dim her eyes, she read, further on, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and for ever." The comfort which these passages of Scripture brought to her it was impossible to describe. The black clouds of unbelief and doubt suddenly but quickly rolled away. The glorious sunlight of divine love and protection shone in upon her soul, and the bow of promise seemed to span the arch through which she looked toward the beneficent days that were near at hand.

She was no longer alone; and this assurance came to her heart like a balm and a blessing. Her perturbed and distracted mind was at rest now; the bygone joy, peace and trust sat again upon the throne of her heart, and held more potent, loving sway than ever. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and for ever!” she kept saying to herself, over and over.

Quieted and perfectly self-poised now, she gave her orders with the assurance of an experienced traveler. She ate a hearty supper, went to her room, and in time to her bed, with as great a sense of security as if she had been in her own house. She slept peacefully, and awoke at her usual time in the morning, thoroughly refreshed.

Unexpected facilities for transacting her trying business opened up on all sides. She was uniformly treated with respect. Her questions were promptly answered. She was marvelously aided in her quest, and her mission proved successful.

Had it not been for that copy of the Bible found so opportunely in her pathway, she was sure she would have taken the next return train to her distant home without

making an effort even toward the accomplishment of her mission. The Bible in the hotel was in the right place.

"

THE LIGHT-KEEPER'S WISH,

By J. H. POTTS.

That would be a happy art which could make real again the cherished memories of the past. There are rich men who would pay pure gold, and powerful kings and princes who would confer a dukedom, to have reproduced some fondly recollected incident of former years. There are scenes spread upon the canvas of every life which become resplendent with glory as the distance of time lends enchantment. He would be an immortal artist who could paint them.

"There are moments of life which are never forget,

They grow brighter and brighter as time steals away; They lend a new charm to the happiest lot,

And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day.” These silent moments have music in them which we would all gladly hear, and the innocent question of the lightkeeper, in yonder Michigan Pharos, might be almost universally repeated.

See that old man yonder. He sits on the porch of his cottage home, beneath the shade of the thick-leaved maple of his own planting. As he leans his head on his bony hands, resting upon the top of his home-made cane, his half-closed eyes, snow-white locks, and long-drawn sigh, all seem to say, "Make me a music-box to play the tunes such as they used to sing forty years ago."

The old lady there, with knitting in hand, her well-worn coiffure partially concealing her silvered hair, gazing into the glowing fireplace before which, at intervals, she has sat for half a lifetime, speaks in the silent language of her own musings the wish for the music of forty years ago.

The young lad of time's yesterday listens to the notes of an old hymn, sung half-listlessly by his loving mother in ordinary household duties, and the melody of the song stirs his heart, producing one of the most powerful impres sions of his childhood. He seems to hear the roar of battle, and witness the agonies of dying men as the words"The war in which the soldier fights,"

fall upon his ear; but the lines which follow, picturing another war—a holy strife-in which is no sadness or bloodshed, enlist his entire sympathy, and none can tell in after years how much of his ambition to be a good soldier of Christ is attributable to that song of "forty years ago."

The wish of the light-keeper for a music-box to play sixteen old-fashioned Methodist tunes will probably neve be realized. One could wish it might. It would cheer his soul in many an hour when the clear moonlight and gentle breezes relieve Lake navigation of danger; and he who, in dark and storm, keeps his light burning strong and clear, to flash its light afar, certainly deserves, in the time of calm, the best music adapted to his surroundings which art can bring.

THE WIFE MUST CO-OPERATE.-Solitude and disappointment enter the history of every man's life, and he is but half-provided for his voyage who finds in his wife but an associate for happy hours, while for his months of darkness and distress no sympathizing partner is prepared.

spirit under all.”

TYRE AND SIDON.

THESE two once famous cities of Phoenicia are often associated together in Scripture. Their origin goes back to the remote ages, when history and myth become blended together. Sidon (Hebrew Zidon, "fishing") was apparently a place of note in the days of the Patriarchs; for in the blessing bestowed by Jacob upon his sons it was promised to Zebulon that "his border shall be unto Zidon." When the Israelites invaded Canaan, Sidon was emphatically styled "The Great." Tyre (Hebrew Sor, "a rock")

Tyre had come to be the more important place. When Solomon applied to Hiram, King of Tyre, to aid him in building the Temple at Jerusalem, he backs up his request by saying, "Thou knowest that there is not among us any that can skill to hew timber like the Sidonians "; and we learn that they were also employed by Zerubbabel in the erection of the second Temple. Sidon flourished also for a time after it fell under the dominion of the Persians; but was, B.C. 341, at least partially destroyed for rebelling against Artaxerxes III. Under the Romans it regained something of its former prosperity. It fell, however, with

is styled "The Daughter of Sidon," and, though founded by colonists from the mother city, is still of very remote antiquity; for in the book of Joshua mention is made of "the strong city, Tyre."

When Canaan was formally portioned out among the tribes of Israel, Sidon was allotted to the tribe of Asher, which, however, never took actual possession of the region, but mingled with the original Phoenician population. In succeeding centuries, Sidon prospered greatly, its most flourishing period being between A.D. 1600 and 1200, when it appears to have been tributary to Egypt. The fame of the Sidonians spread far and wide. They were noted as skillful artificers. And they kept up their reputation after

out resistance under the Moslem yoke; but was still a place of great strength, for it was taken by the Crusaders, in 1110, only after a siege of two years. The Saracens recaptured it in 1197, and held it for a century, when it again fell into the hands of the Christians, who finally abandoned it in 1291, when it was razed to the ground by the Sultan Malek. Its site is now occupied by the considerable village of Saide. But for the substantial identity of name, and the unmistakable fact of position, there are scarcely any marks, left by which one would recognize the site of the proud emporium of ancient times. Everything wears a modern aspect, and that, too, of the most ordinary kind. The present town extends along the seashore for the space

of about a mile in length, and not more than half a mile in its greatest breadth. But, standing on a gradually ascending slope, its appearance from the water is not unpleasing. Toward the seaside an old castle, probably the work of the Crusaders, and the ruins of another running out at the extremity of a ledge of rocks, tend to give the harbor, or rather roadstead, a picturesque aspect; especially when a few of the native vessels of the coast are seen behind this ledge.

Tyre is even more historically notable than Sidon. It was originally built upon the mainland; but in course of

which those of Carthage and Cadiz were of special note. The Hebrew prophets are emphatic in their descriptions of the glory of Tyre in their day. Isaiah, about 700 B.C., describes it as "the joyous city whose antiquity is of ancient days. . . . . whose merchants are princes, and whose traffickers are the honorable of the earth "; and Ezekiel, some eighty years later says, Thy borders are in the midst of the seas, thy builders have perfected thy beauty. They have made all thy ship-boards of fir-trees of Senir; they have taken cedars from Lebanon to make masts for thee. Of the oaks of Bashan have they made thine oars; the

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time extended to and covered a rocky island about a half a mile from the coast. There were originally two of these islands lying close together; but in the time of Hiram, the friend of Solomon, the passage between them was filled up, and the entire island had then a circuit of about two miles. The insular city grew to be much more important than that upon the mainland. From its favorable location and its apparently impregnable position, strong by nature, and strengthened by the best engineering skill of the times, it came to be the great commercial city of the world, sending out its vessels to the remotest parts of the then known world, and founding remote colonies, among

company of the Ashurites have made thy benches of ivory, brought out of the isles of Chittim. . . . . The ships of Tarshish did sing of thee in thy market, and thou wast replenished and made very glorious in the midst of the seas." Tyre alone, of all the neighboring regions, was able for a long time to withstand the power of the Assyrians. Shalmaneser (according to Josephus, but more probably Sargon), laid siege to it for five years, and was not able even to capture the city on the mainland. Nebuchadnezzar, after a siege of thirteen years, captured the mainland city, about 573 B.C., but the island city resisted all the might of the great conqueror, It was reserved for Alexander the Great to

....

This final destruction of Tyre, by the annihilation of its harbor, must have been gradual, and certainly was not accomplished till long after the time of our Saviour, when the region around Tyre and Sidon appears to have been densely peopled; for we find multitudes of them flocking to hear Him. The whole five-and-twenty miles between Tyre and Sidon appears at one time to have been almost a continuous series of villages; and about midway there are still considerable ruins. They consist chiefly of lines of foundations level with the surface of the ground, many stones irregularly scattered about, and here and there a cistern, or a pillar half buried in the soil. The seaport of Tyre existed in the time of Paul, for the vessel in which he sailed from Miletus evidently, from the nature of the voyage, one of considerable size, "landed at Tyre, for there the ship was to unlade her burden." Tyre must have retained some importance for several centuries longer; for it was made the seat of a bishopric, and a cathedral was built there, which was in 324 consecrated by Eusebius, the ecclesiastical historian, who has left an account of the structure. This cathedral, having become ruinous, was restored by the Crusaders, and in it were deposited the remains of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. Some time in the thirteenth century, the town was overthrown by an earthquake. In 1874, the site of the cathedral was purchased by the German Government, since which, the foundations of the ancient edifice have been partially unearthed.

ONLY A FLOWER

"How I WISH I had something to bring Hetta! I'm almost sorry she asked me to her birthday party, for I'll be. the only one there who cannot give her a present ;" and Herbert thought over all his possessions, in the hope of finding something amongst them that his little cousin would like. He had bats, balls, tops, many toys which he valued much, but would willingly have parted with for Hetta's sake. The difficulty was, that none of them were suitable for a little girl, and he had no money to buy anything else. At length, the idea occurred to his mind that he had seen one beautiful bud, the first of the season, on his own mossrose bush.

"But will she care for that," he thought, "amongst so many valuable presents? It is only a flower. Still, I have nothing else, and it will just show I remembered her.

The day came, and Herbert ran to the garden before setting off. The rosebud was opening into bloom. He cut it quickly from the bush, leaving one fresh, green leaf attached, rolled the stalk in a little damp moss, and carefully packed it in a card-box, to present to his cousin on his arrival. It was true she had received many pretty gifts that morning, but, amongst them all, not one which could compare in beauty with that simple moss-rose, formed and tinted as it was by the hand of a Divine Creator. The boy was gratified to his heart's content by the look of admiration and exclamation of delight with which Hetta removed the rose from its box and placed it in water.

"Oh, Herbert! how lovely! Did this really grow in your own garden? and did you cut it for me? I have not seen a rose this year till now, and a flower is such a treat in town."

The day passed merrily, and Herbert enjoyed himself extremely. He returned home in the evening much pleased that the flower had gratified his cousin, and had helped to make her birthday happier. Next morning the moss-rosebud had expanded its petals into a still more perfect stage of loveliness, and Hetta, who had a holiday, and was going out to pay visits to some of her young friends, was tempted to take it from the water and fasten it in front of her dress.

"My rose does look so beautiful," she said; "I should like to show it off, and an hour or two out of water won't wither it much."

At some distance from home her attention was attracted by a little girl of about her own age, who stood leaning wearily against a wall, crying as if her heart would break. Catching Hetta's eye, she slowly dried her tears, and, coming timidly forward, sobbed out:

"Please, miss, my brother's sick, and mother sent me out to look for something for him. I never asked any one before, and I don't know rightly what to say; only he's ill and weak, and we have nothing to give him.”

Hetta felt very sorry for this little girl, and wished greatly to send some help to her sick brother; but all her money had been spent on the treat of the day before. She thought of returning home to ask her mother's assistance, but remembered that she had gone out for several hours.

"How grieved I am that I did not keep some of my money. What can I do now? Let me think if I have anything which could be of use to the sick boy." Then, as she looked down, her eye lighted upon the rose, and, taking it from her belt-"I might send him this," she said; "it is only a flower, but when I was ill last Spring I liked the violets so much that mamma brought me. It is all I have, and I remember the Lord Jesus said that even a cup of cold water given in His name to one of these little ones will be accepted. Here, my poor girl," she continued, aloud, "I have nothing to send your brother but this rose. I wish I had something more useful, but, perhaps, it will comfort him.'

"Well, Mary," said a pale, careworn woman, who was bending over the pallet where the sick boy lay, when Mary reached her home, "your foot sounds as if you had had good success. What have you brought ?"

"This, mother," answered the child, holding up the rose in triumph.

"Is that all ?" said the woman, in a disappointed tone; 'why, it's only a flower."

But poor, sick Willy's eye had canght sight of it by this time, and, raising himself as well as he was able, he said: