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that promised universal repentance and calling upon God is foreshewn to take place. We will not enlarge on the agonizing picture drawn-on the little children screaming for a drop of water-the naked, wounded, dying victims-the outrages too terrible to think on but oh, let us share the blessing invoked on the Moorish king, by perishing Judah-let us be as the compassionate Moor who brought a pitcher of water to still the cries of the tortured babes. Let us swell, as we can, the portion sent to them that are ready to perish; for they are "the children of the prophets, and of the covenant which God made with their fathers, saying unto Abraham, And in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed."

(We have already had the satisfaction of receiving and forwarding some contributions to the fund: next month we will furnish a list, which we hope will be swelled by the bounty of sympathizing friends to Israel.)

THE PILGRIM BROTHERS,

AN ALLEGORICAL SKETCH.

BY SIDNEY O'Moore.

THERE is a land which is called by many of its inhabitants "the vale of tears," but those who look upward behold the Sun of Righteousness shining upon each falling shower, and transforming it into a rainbow of hope, a radiant arch on which swiftwinged thoughts ascend and descend from heaven.

Of the two roads through this land, it is strange that the most frequented is that which seems least to satisfy the heart. Among the multitude who pursue it, voices continually resound, "O weary, weary, how shall we kill the day?" Yet its weariness drives them not from the way.

The other path over hill and dale, is brightened by the smile of heaven as by glad sunshine, and an abiding peace dwells in the hearts of its pilgrims. Even if these should ever be tossed in dark waters, they know it is only that they may be fashioned as pearls to shine in that great day when the King shall make up his jewels.

At the same hour, two brothers entered the valley, happy in having been brought into it by those who had chosen the path of peace, and carefully led their young charge in the same happy way. But alas,

before the young pilgrims had travelled far into the land, a scorching blast, more fatal than the breath of the Simoon, seized upon their beloved guardians. They spoke strange words, and hearkened for voices which met not mortal ear: they saw around their fevered couches, fleeting forms that no others could discern. Vainly the brothers, with encircling arms of love, strove to detain their beloved. Borne away upon the wings of the blast, they were swept across the river of death.

Grace bowed himself before the throne of the invisible, and besought that he might receive the telescopic glass of faith. Then looking upward he beheld a great white throne, surrounded by a rejoicing multitude, clad in white, and bearing palms of victory; and amid the celestial throng he espied his lost beloved, radiant with immortal beauty, and beaming with eternal joy. Entranced by the glorious scene, he half re-echoed the strain of triumph that seemed to float from their resplendent harps. "Victory, victory through the blood of the Lamb."

And as he continued gazing, the brightness of their joy did illumine and exhale the tears of his grief, even as the morning sun first brightens, then exhales the dew-drops of the night.

Then did Grace beseech his brother to contemplate the glorious spectacle, but Nature turned away; he wept in gloom until the receding shadows of the departed grew dim upon the glass of memory ; then wrapped in the present, he forgot the shrouded past.

How often does the angel of death stoop with friendly finger to inscribe upon the heart of man a

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salutary warning: scarcely have his dark pinions borne him on to execute another mission of the Supreme, before the silent waves of time sweep over, and gradually obliterate the memorial of eternity.

Yet while the grief of Nature did remain, he walked not in the broad way openly, but his heart being still more averse to the straitness of the other path, he turned his steps into the bordering land which lay between: wherein there was a placard on which was written that warning to pilgrims contained in Rev. iii. 15, 16.

Grace generally walked with glad alacrity in the narrow way, rejoicing in its sunshine; yet it must be recorded that on one or two occasions his footsteps did slide into the wider and more frequented road. However it always happens that when the righteous go astray, that "they are bound in fetters, and holden in cords of affliction," while he whom they have grieved, "sheweth them their work and their transgression wherein they have exceeded." He openeth also their ear to discipline, and commands that they depart from iniquity.

On such an occasion, Grace, who had gradually grown so drowsy, that he had scarcely moved forward in the way, soon stood still, and at length fell down off the high and narrow path, and lay insensible among the companions of Nature.

A lion who walked about seeking whom he might devour, espied the slumberer, and drew near to seize him for a prey. But when he came nigh, a wall of fire sprang up around the unconscious pilgrim; and the baffled lion was forced to turn his steps in search of other spoil.

The breath of the unseen, but mighty wind, now fanned the torpid cheek of the fallen wayfarer, and recalled him to a sense of his dangerous situation. By the light of a gleam of lightning, he beheld the fierce enemy; and, trembling at the fearful risk to which he had exposed himself, gave fervent thanks and praises to that sleepless power which had guarded him when he knew it not. Then he strove to regain the narrow path, but thick darkness hung around, and the sun of righteousness, once his light and guide, was no more seen. Struggling, and often wounded, over the stones which he had rolled down in his fall, and which now blocked his return, he soon sank exhausted, and knew not how to proceed. Again the cold wind swept by him, and bore to his ear the roaring of the fierce lion mingled with the last shrieks of his dying victims. Once more with renewed strength he rose to pursue his flight, and, in his agony, exclaimed, "Mine iniquities have separated between me and my God, and my sins have shut out the light of his countenance; my strength is turned to weakness, my path is wrapped in darkness; save me, O King, for thine own sake! Save me, or I perish!"

Then a still and solemn voice was heard, saying, "I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins, return unto me for I have redeemed thee."

While yet those gracious words did sound, the clouds of thick darkness did dissolve, and were swept away as by a mighty, rushing wind; the glorious sun beamed forth, and the path to the happy land became visible in its brightness. Grace hasted,

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