AN OLD WELSH CHURCH.

You ought to know that the good news of the gospel was known and loved in England, long before popish priests from Rome came to our country. Many of the people did not like these new comers, for they did all they could to persuade the king to make the people submit to be papists. But they would not, and ran away into Wales, where they had to suffer great hardships for want of food, and clothing, and houses. But this was not all, for soldiers were sent after them to hunt them out and kill them; and they did kill hundreds of them.

This was both wicked and cruel; but the Roman papists have done many such cruel and wicked things, and they would do the same again if they had the power. Now, at this time, they will not let the people have the Bible if they can hinder them. And yet these papists pretend to be christians. But they are not; for Jesus Christ said, "Search the scriptures." God gave us the Bible to shew us the way of salvation, and it must be a great sin for any man to say, you shall not have it. In the judgment day I would not be in that man's place for all the world. God loves us all, and has given us his book to tell us so; and we ought to read it and love it for his sake. sure you do as long as you live.

Be

THE OLD CLOCK.

THE OLD CLOCK.

Ir stands in a corner of the quiet room
As it stood many years ago,

When a happy group in childhood's bloom,
We heard each ringing blow;

Or the pen-dulum swing, like a living thing,
Or the tick, tick, tick of the second's wing
On which time flew.

I recall the scenes of my early days,

Of forest, field, and brook;

Of our childish pranks and lively plays,

But keep thinking of the clock,

Which would always tell of the hours' farewell
By sounding aloud their parting knell

As on they rolled.

From the rock of the cradle to my full grown state,
The old clock had to do with each scene.

Its face changes not, yet it seemeth of late
My years fly more swiftly than then;

Still the pen-dulum swings, and the old clock rings,
As hour after hour of my life takes wings,
And I grow old.

Well let it swing on; I soon shall be gone
Where clocks never measure the time;

Time to me will have sped to the graves of the dead,
And FOR EVER will sound its grand chime.

There for aye may I sing of my Saviour King,
The Lamb that was slain and liveth again,
And never grow old!

A FEW WORDS ABOUT THIS BOOK.

A FEW WORDS ABOUT THIS BOOK. WE call it a book; for though when it comes to you every month it only comes as one of the parts of the book, yet if you take care of all the parts, and keep them clean until the end of the year, they will then make, when bound, a very handsome book, full of tales and pictures.

This will be the third number we have sent to you in its present new form at only one half-penny for each part. We are very glad to find that it is liked so much that already nearly as many more have been wanted. We think that some of you have been doing what we asked you to do. We think that you have been showing it to other boys and girls, and that they have wanted to have one too. We say we think some of you have been doing so; we wish you all would do so, for then many thousands more would be wanted, and we should be able to give you many more pretty pictures. We hope that every one of you will help us; and you cannot help us better than by showing it to others. Tell them they can have the other two parts, and this part, and all the parts as they come once a month, at the same place where you get yours.

A LETTER ABOUT THIS BOOK.

A LETTER ABOUT THIS BOOK.

HAVING been, through the favour of God, engaged in writing such little books as this for more than forty years, we shall not be blamed if we say that we are both pleased and thankful when we hear that what we have written has been the means of doing good. We have lately received a letter from a Friend, unknown to us, who says, that about twenty years ago he bought one of these for his first little boy, and after that one for his little girl, who were much pleased with them, and took them to the sabbath-school, and showed them to the children. Ever since then a good number have been taken in that school; and now as they may be had for one half-penny every month, they have ordered three times as many, and he hopes other schools will do so too.

He also says that both he and his family, for his son and daughter are grown up now, continue to read their contents with much interest. He also almost flatters us when he says that the name of the Editor is a kind of household word" among them, and they think that he "was created to be a writer for the young." Well: that may be so, if by that is meant that the Lord inclined his heart to do such things and

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LIFTED OVER.

opened his way to do them, so that all the praise and glory might be His, and His alone; for of one thing he feels quite sure, that he never could have done what he did, and for so long time, if the Lord had not permitted him and helped him. And now on looking back, had he to live one more life on earth, and were he allowed to choose what he would do, he would prefer to spend all its years in feeding the lambs of the Saviour's flock with the sincere milk of the Word of God.

LIFTED OVER.

As tender mothers, guiding baby steps,
When places come at which the tiny feet
Would trip, lift up the little ones in arms
Of love, and set them down beyond the harm,
So did "Our Father" watch the precious boy
Led o'er the stones by me, who stumbled oft
Myself, but strove to help my darling on :
He saw the weak limbs failing, and saw
Rough ways before us, where my arms would fail ;
And so He reached from heaven, lifting the child,
Who smiled when leaving me, and put him down
Beyond all hurt, beyond my sight, and bade
Him wait for me! Shall I not then be glad,
And, thanking God, press on to over-take?