THE picture on this page presents a beautiful scene in Bengal, India. Some of the trees are the cocoa-nut, the plantain, the betel-nut and the tamarind. The river is the Ganges. The whole taken together, the houses, trees, river, boats, little animals, the females on the edge of the river, the shadows in the water, &c.,presents a beautiful view.

"Every prospect pleases,

And only man is vile."

The largest building on the opposite side of the river is a heathen temple, built for the worship of one of their idol gods, called Shiva. People go there every day with fruits and flowers to present to this idol, and sometimes they offer bloody sacrifices.

The women have gone down to dip themselves in the sacred waters of the Ganges, expecting thus to wash away their sins. Deluded creatures! Many a mother leads her little children to that spot, and teaches them to seek the cleansing of their hearts, not by the blood of Jesus Christ, but by the waters of that river.

These things should affect our hearts, and make us resolve to do whatever lies in our power to deliver our fellow-men from such delusions.

THE TRIUMPH OF A MOTHER'S PRAYERS.

BY REV. H. M. BRIDGE.

It was one of the softest evenings in July. The half-grown fields of rye and corn were waving in the gentle breeze, while the newly-mown grass, curing in luxurious winrows, filled the atmosphere with fragrance. The moon was climbing up the unclouded east, and her pale beams shot across the landscape, giving the whole scene an air of melancholy loveliness.

In the midst of this picture stood an antique cottage, with long and low-descending roofs, and a massive chimney projecting from the centre of the ridge-pole. The windows were nearly overrun with creepers and woodbines, and at one corner stood a tree, whose waving branches stretched around with an air of fatherly protection. In the rear lay a garden tastefully arranged and cultivated, while, in front, stretching far away to the south, was a green and lovely yard. Near by was a tall grove of pines; and a little way to the right a beautiful sheet of water called "Bass Pond."

Not a sound was heard save the monotonous churking of reptiles around the pond, the deep roar of the breeze as it vibrated through the pine branches, and an occasional moaning ejaculation from an open window in a retired corner of the house. The latter needs explanation, and, as the shutter is raised, we will draw near and investigate. Listen to the voice of a praying mother.

The old clock strikes the hour of ten, and just then the tall, thin form of a young man rushes hastily by the corner, and, entering the back door, retires to bed.

He is the subject of that mother's prayers. From infancy she has watched over him with the tenderest emotions. From the first dawn of intelligence she has endeavored to instil into his mind the first principles of virtue and religion. She has taught him prayers, and hymns, and beguiled his attention with Scripture tales; and times innumerable commended him to God in prayer. He has been led to church and to the Sunday school, and daily knelt with his parents at the altar of family prayer. Often has she looked forward to the time when he would come to adult age, and seen him, in her imagination, standing on some post of usefulness, perhaps in the sacred desk, expounding to dying men the words of eternal life. At three several times she has seen evidences of powerful convictions for sin in his mind and heart; but, alas! the Spirit was grieved, and he still remains" without God and without hope."

Moreover, for the last few months, she has been alarmed at his increasing disinclination to religious things, and especially at certain indications of a deepening depravity. What could she do? She resolved to double her diligence at the throne of grace, and place him as a daily sacrifice upon the altar of God. Seventeen years had settled down upon him, and still he is unsaved. O, must he grow up to full manhood in sin, his mind become engrossed in cares and responsibilities, and he remain in the gall of bitterness and the bonds of iniquity"? Must he? Forbid it, Almighty God! was her

daily prayer.

On the day in question, she had conversed with him, and found his heart indifferent and unapproachable. Moreover, and what especially grieved her, he had resolved to spend that very evening at a gathering, where naught would prevail save revelry and tumultuous song. Remonstrance was vain, and the only resource was to betake herself to prayer. He came home at an earlier hour than was expected. Something was doubtless on his mind. Let us follow him to his room. He enters with a cloudy brow, betokening a troubled heart. He knows not that his mother is still up, and in an agony of prayer; and she, in turn, knows not that he has returned from the gay party. But, though ignorant of each other's position and feelings, God sees them both, and is work

ing the counsel of his own will. The mother is beginning to lay hold on the hope set before her, and the son is beginning to let go his sinful determinations. The one is about to be "led in a way which he has not known;" and the other, with increasing faith, is literally grasping the promise which says, "Whatsoever things ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them."

The clock struck eleven, but still he got no sleep. A dreadful sound was in his ears. The dark picture of the past loomed involuntarily up before him. He thought of his opportunities, his instructions, and his deviations from rectitude. The innumerable prayers and exhortations, of which he had been the subject, echoed in his ears; his guilty deeds assumed the form of so many demons, and haunted his soul. He rolled from side to side, closed his eyes spasmodically, and tried to force them to sleep; but immediately opened them again, and gazed around to see if any one was near. Now he resolutely determined to throw off his uneasiness and become himself again; but the attempt proved vain. His heart beat quick and hard, his eyes shot wildly around the room, and he concluded that God was departing from him forever! O, terrible thought! It startled him; and he cried out in an agony of despair! The clock struck the hour of twelve; his mother, though he knew it not, had obtained the victory, and retired to bed, praising God. He arose and sat erect in bed. A moment more, and he was on his knees, attempting to utter a prayer. But the attempt was abortive; the heavens seemed like brass, and, uttering a groan of deep despair, he arose and dressed.

His voice of distress awoke his brother, who had recently given his heart to the Lord, and had obtained peace. He kindly inquired of his brother what ailed him. Henry replied that he was in dreadful trouble, and was afraid that he was going to be lost.

"Don't say so, Henry," said William; "don't say so; pray to God."

"O, I cannot pray; he will not hear. I fear I am lost!" William arose and commenced dressing also.

"But you are not lost, Henry; you are living, and God is merciful."

"His mercy is clean gone forever!" groaned Henry. "I ought to have repented and sought the Lord when you and James did. I

knew it was my duty. I was almost persuaded to do so; but, O! I put it off. To-day I hurt mother's feelings by persisting in my purpose to go to the party. I went, as you know, but did not stay till it was through. I was unhappy all the time, and I came home and got into bed. I now feel dreadfully! O dear, I fear I am going down quick into hell!" Upon this Henry burst into tears.

"Let us go and wake up mother," said William, who, being young in experience, felt inadequate to administer proper advice.

Their rush into their mother's apartments caused momentary alarm. Though her prayers had been long and earnest, the result was not looked for so immediately as this movement would indicate. Such was the first thought. And yet the second was, Who knoweth? I have cried aloud from the depths of an agonized heart. I have laid hold of the promises, "Ask, and ye shall receive; "'"' Whatsoever things ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them," &c. I have asked for an early answer; and I have been unusually enlightened and favored with what I feel can be none other than the Divine presence. Why may not my boy be rescued from the gall of bitterness this very night?

While this train of reasoning, quick as a twinkling almost, was passing through her mind, and ere she had time to make inquiries for the cause of his perturbation, Henry exclaimed:

"O, mother, mother, do help me; do pray to God for me, for I am in a dreadful condition!

"But what is the matter, my son?"

"I am afraid that I have sinned away my day of grace, and must sink down to eternal ruin!"

"My son, I rejoice. You are just where I have longed to see

you."

"O, mother, my feelings are dreadful! What must I do?" said the agonized young man.

"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved," was the reply.

"But the very heavens seem like brass above me. I dare not look up," said Henry.

"You seem to be deeply affected, my son. I trust the Holy Spirit is operating on your conscience. Are you prepared to seek the Lord with all your heart?"