"At the age of thirty he was the teacher of mathematics and natural philosophy in the old Albany Academy, and there made his first remarkable investigations in the infant science of electro-magnetism. He had slender advantages for research, but wrought wonders with small means. At one time he and Professor Forbes of Edinburgh were engaged in the same line of research and reached the same discoveries. 'I should have got the start of Forbes,' said Henry once to me, 'if I had not been obliged to wait for some chemicals from the City of New York.' Albany did not appreciate the 'prophet in his own country,' and the Academy trustees tumbled Henry's apparatus into their garret when he was called to the chair of Natural Philosophy in venerable Princeton. In 1837 he went to Europe, and was received with great distinction by Faraday, Daniels, Babbage, Forbes, Ampère, the Duke of Sussex, and other 'crowned heads' in the realm of science. He told me that the finest compliment he received was when Wheatstone, Faraday and some other savans gathered to show him one of his own electro-magnets in successful operation. Although excessively modest and unpretentious, he knew, and was always ready to defend, his own rights as an original dis

coverer.

"It was not until his residence in Princeton that Joseph Henry made his public confession of faith in Christ and united with the First Presbyterian Church. When he took that step he frankly said to his pastor, Dr. Rice, 'I cannot overcome my reluctance to public speaking, and you must never call upon me to take part in the prayer-meetings.' The only speech I ever heard from him was a familiar talk to the students in behalf of total abstinence. The chief point that he made was that if the young men ever indulged in strong drink, they would be pretty sure to become drunkards, if any adversity ever befell them in after life. This position he illustrated by a most pathetic incident. Professor Henry's faith in Jesus was deep and devout; his love of God's word was profound; and he always looked with pity and contempt upon the puny assaults of infidel scientists upon God's revealed truth.

"In 1846, he was called to the superintendence of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington; and it is not too much to say that he saved that noble institution to the purpose for which its founder designed it. He often amused me with the accounts of his contests with Senator Rufus Choate, who wished to turn the "Smithsonian" into a great library, and with certain rustic Congressmen who aimed to make it a museum for stuffed alligators and sixlegged calves. His sagacity and patience gained their reward when the great "Institution" became the repository and the stimulant for original scientific research over the whole continent.

"At his fireside, presidents, statesmen, and scientists, sat together in friendly converse. Some memorable hours I have passed there, when he would give me his judgments of public men and measures; or would sit up until midnight reading over old letters and talking over old times. So, beautifully, modestly, and devoutly, passed away his

At his funeral, Dr. Sunderland, chaplain of the Senate, impressively read the funeral service, Dr. Hodge offered a feeling prayer, and Dr. Mitchell delivered the sermon. the course of the sermon he said:

In

"At this hour, wherever science is known and learning respected, hands are clasped in communion of grief. A great man has passed from the communion of the Church on earth to a communion in heaven. Joseph Henry was a Christian. He was benevolent and pure, and his heart was without a spot. He possessed all that was grand. He was not smart, as some men call smartness, but he was pure, and he is laid to rest to-day without a spot on his character. He was the product of fourscore years, and had the simplicity of childhood, which was still upon him at the time of his death. On him could be found no ugly spot or sores. God gave him as a man, and has taken him back unharmed. He was unselfish in all his actions, and went about doing good. For long years he served the Government for a small salary, and he did not grow rich. On this small salary he gave up everything to science, and all the results of his labor to the Government. Sunday last his mind was clear, and he conversed freely on religious subjects, and said he rested his fate on Jesus Christ. Joseph Henry died in the communion of the Christian Church. He found spiritual comfort in the Presbyterian Church, and he was a close follower of the Saviour."

Professor Henry was a firm believer in the personal power of Jesus Christ. He exhibited a personal faith in this Saviour. Family worship was a blessing and a comfort to him. One of the last letters he ever wrote, and which was found in his desk after he died, was a discussion of the necessary beliefs in Christianity. The concluding paragraph says:

"We are conscious of having such evil thoughts and tendencies that we cannot associate ourselves with a Divine Being who is the Director and Governor of all, or even call upon Him for mercy, without the intercession of one who may affiliate himself with us."

The greatest scientists have been the strongest believers in God and His divine providence.

Sunshine is ever pure;

No art of man can rob it of its beauty,
Nor stain its unpolluted heavenliness J
It is the fairest, purest thing in nature;

Fit type of that fair heaven where all is pure,
And into which no evil thing can enter,

Where darkness comes not, where no shadow falls,
Where night and sin can have no dwelling-place.

THE WATER-LILY.

On the margin of a beautiful lake grew a little green plant; it stretched out far into the water, as if anxious to make the most it could of the opportunities within its reach; it seemed an ordinary plant, without much to show for itself; but if any curious person examined it closely, they wonld have perceived a little green bud streaked with white, in which was centred all the hope of the water-lily.

Day after day this litttle bud opened wider and wider, until at last, in all its exquisite fairness, with a heart like burnished gold, the lily lay unfolded on the surface of the water. I am sorry to tell you that the little flower grew proud of her beauty, and forgot that she owed it to the tender care of the sun that had warmed her into life. Sad experience must teach her wherein her real strength lay. Meanwhile,

her beauty declined, spots appeared on her fairness, and ugly insects had crept into her heart. But a loving eye

by the ripples in the water caused by her struggles. I was several hours before the storm abated, and allowed the flower to raise its head; but it looked very hopeless and weary. "Ah!" she cried, "if the sun would only forgive my pride and ingratitude, and shine on me again!" The sun seemed deaf for awhile to her entreaties, until suddenly, one day, a solitary ray pierced through the clouds and shone down into the very heart of the lily. Oh! how delightedly she welcomed it; she spread out her petals and

was watching over her, and a tender hand was outstretched to save her from herself. The bright Summer sky became overcast, dark and heavy clouds rolled over it and hid the sun. The lily shivered a little at first, then comforted herself with the thought that it was no matter to her, she had need of nothing she could live on the light and heat she had already received. A fearful storm broke over the lake, lashing the water into a fury; the waves rose higher and higher, and dashed over the trembling flower, until at length you could only recognize the spot where it grew,

unfolded every wrinkle, to retain as much as possible of its light and warmth. Then ray after ray poured its glorious brightness on the lily, until, unknown to herself, she became a marvel of beauty; her petals were now spotless as unsullied snow, her heart pure, and burning with gratitude and love. All the flowers that grew on the banks of the water tried to imitate her charms, whilst the passers-by stopped and gazed in admiration at the graceful flower, so lovely in its unconsciousness. At last the lily became the emblem of meekness and purity.

after. now.

in the days of the Apostles hovers about you and me to comfort now; and He came to make a "dying bed feel soft as downy pillows are." Let us reason together. You have faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. Stop; think carefully here. You are trusting in Him for life now, and eternal life hereYou say I am so unworthy. Never mind that You believe that Jesus loves you, and you are conscious of love toward Him. You strive to do, and pray to be able to suffer, His will. You hope to have a home in the mansions that He prepares for His people. Very well. Hear how the Apostle talks under similar circumstances. He declares: "According to my earnest expectation and my hope... Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life or by death; for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." He is not certain which he ought to choose, "For I am in a straight betwixt two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." He knows, though, which he prefers, and pines for his release. "Willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." Can what the world considers "the worst" be any calamity to such a one? To you, would release from your present pain and weakness be an evil? Would "being with Christ" be hard dealing with you? For shame, my doubting heart, that thou didst e'er entertain such a shameful thought. Cheer up and grasp the glorious possibility. Let the distant imagery of the hopes become a verity. No longer doubt; thou art come to the Jordan of thy pilgrimage; mount Pisgah's top, and with an eye of steady faith sweep the rich fields of thy eternal home. Let fear subside and trembling cease, for our Lord and friend holds the keys

of life.

monies as is the heart of the Christian full of the promises THERE is no music-box so freighted with melodious harfilled the world with songs of gladness and triumph. His and of the spirit of the Gospel. The Man of Sorrows has love has harmonized once discordant passions, and caused jarring conflicts within the soul to yield to all the sweet enchantments of faith, hope and charity. It is not allowed while in the shadowed valley. The disciple cannot be a believer to be always on the mount of ecstasy, nor all the exempt from tribulation or distresses. He must have his Gethsemane and his Calvary. For him there is some bitter cup, piercing spear. Yet, notwithstanding, he shall have joy even in tribulation. His sour shall have its templed exalted and exalting faith will enable him to catch the notes glory, its celestial peace, and its anthems of rapture. His of the celestial choir and to hear the strains of the harpers before the throne. Nothing can put so much music into a man as the consciousness of being at home with Christ. Selfishness, of whatever sort, begets moroseness and faultfinding and distrust. But whoso is reconciled in his heart, mind and will, to the authority of the All-Loving, will bo

I lay me down to sleep,

With little thought or care Whether my waking find Me here or there.

A bowing, burdened heart, That only asks to rest Unquestioningly upon

A loving breast.

My good right hand forgets
Its cunning now;
To march the weary march
I know not how.

I am not eager, bold,

Nor strong-all that is past: I am ready not to do, At last, at last.

My half-day's work is done, And this is all my part;

I give a patient God

My patient heart.

And grasp His banner still,

Though all its blue be dim; These stripes no less than stars Lead after Him.

LOOKING BACK.

LOOKING back is a good or bad thing, according to the motive. It was bad of the Israelites to look back to Egypt with regret, and Lot's wife perished when she looked back to the doomed city. But the Christian pilgrim has other objects in looking back and in "calling to remembrance the former days."

Which of us has not need to say, "I do remember my faults this day"? How, then, and for what purposes, should the sins of the past be remembered? First of all, if their guilt still rests on the conscience, let the sinner go with a broken heart and true penitence to the Cross of Christ, imploring His mercy; let him go with the faith that, however great the guilt, the blood of Jesus will cleanse it all away. But then, assuming that this has been done already, are we still to remember our past sins? "Has not God," it may be said, "forgiven and forgotten them, and should not we try to forget them, too?" They are not to be remembered, we reply, as sins still to be confessed, and for which we have still to seek forgiveness, since, once forgiven, they are blotted out for ever; nor should they be so remembered and dwelt upon as to suggest the temptation to commit them again; nor, again, should they be so recalled as to produce in our minds any feeling of discouragement in the Lord's service. Still, they should be remembered-remembered, that we may be deeply affected by the thought of God's great mercy in blotting out their guilt; that we may be made humble and watchful; and that, whilst we abhor everything that is evil, we may have compassion on those who are still in sin, and may be impelled to do our utmost to work in them true repentance and to lead them to the Cross. For ends like these, we should "remember and forget not how we provoked the Lord our God."

Our remembrances of the past should include the grateful recollection of God's wise and loving guidance. "And thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart." But does God really guide men? "There can be no doubt," it may, perhaps, be said, "respecting God's guidance of Israel, for there was the pillar of cloud by day and the

pillar of fire by night; but is there any such thing as God's guidance now! Here am I, poor and ignorant, and I am only one of vast millions; is it likely that God will exercise over me any special care, or that He will take the trouble to guide me for even a single footstep?" What says the Bible? Do we not find such assurances as these? "The Lord thy God shall guide thee continually"; "In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths"; "I will guide thee with Mine eye." What says experience? You exercised the most prudent forethought, you took every possible precaution that you might guard against mistake, you asked counsel of the wisest friend you had, and you obtained from them timely and valuable help; but was there not something above all this, without which all would have been vain? We scarcely felt it at the time; but are we not sure of it now, that an unseen hand was leading us all the time? The more intently and devoutly we remember the way along which we have journeyed, the more we shall see how, not only in great events, but even in the very smallest, we were ever beneath the wise and loving guidance of God. And we should review the bygone years of our life for this express purpose, that we may see how, through all, the Lord has been kindly leading us, and that His way was ever the right way.

To very many a review of the past will include at least some recollections of trouble. Thank God! the vividness of these recollections fades away! Yet who can forget any great trouble which has befallen him? Who does not remember the day, the very hour, when some great calamity smote him down? In what spirit should we recall our griefs? That we may weep our tears afresh, and think how hardly God has dealt with us? No; but rather that we may remember the mercy which God showed us in our trouble, the promises He fulfilled, the strength with which He sustained us, the loving sympathy of Jesus. We should think of the song He gave us in the night rather than of the night itself. We should recall the blessed results of the chastisement rather than its severity; not the smart of the lancet with which the painful wound was made, but rather the happy result of the operation in our restoration to soundness and health. If we can thus think of troubles which are past, their recollection will be fraught with priceless blessing.

PRAYER ANSWERED.

THERE is no Christian who has not cause to own with thankfulness that it has often been the case in his experience, that the Lord hath heard his voice, and answered his prayer. Perhaps the reader may be able, even now, to remember some instance of this-some special difficulty overcome, some mercy granted, some anxiety removed, some trial averted, in answer to his prayer. The lesson, then, is not only the very obvious one of gratitude, but this also, oh, praying Christian-covet earnestly the best gifts, seek the highest good; ask not only for temporal benefits, but let the Lord hear your voice and your supplication for the life of the soul, and be assured that what you ask you shall receive! If He has heard you when you besought His healing for the body, be assured that He can and will also hear you where the life and health of the spirit is at stake. If He has answered you when you asked for guidance on your journey, you may ask with confidence for guidance in life's path, even to the end of your earthly pilgrimage. If you have been afraid without His aid to meet some difficulty, and have found strength, courage, and assistance in your time of need, believe that He can also help you against your soul's enemies, and cast yourself on Him to defend you from all evil,