She answered.

Then they dragged her forth,

Half drowned amid the tide.
"Will you renounce the covenants?

Abjure your faith," they cried.

She raised her eyes, nigh dimmed in death;
"Renounce my Saviour! No.
I'm one of Jesus' little ones,

I pray you let me go."

They let her go, the waters closed
Above her youthful head;
One of the glorious martyr throng,
One of the deathless dead.

Her name shall never be forgot
While Bladnoch's waters run,
And Solway kindles into gold
Beneath the setting sun.

They speak it oft in Scotland's homes,

'Tis told in far off lands,

How in the bloom of youth she died

Upon the Solway sands.

And souls are thrilled, and hearts beat high,
To hear the story told,

How nobly she maintained her faith

In days that now are old.

And how she kept her trust in God,
And how she scorned the foe,
And how she lived, and how she died,
Two hundred years ago.

God's Remedy for Care.

"Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God."-Phil. iv. 6.

HAT does the Apostle mean? Not certainly that we are to be careless about everything, and take no pains or care about anything.

The word careful, as he uses it here, does not mean painstaking, but over-anxious; it means, in fact, just

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what is expressed when we separate it into its two elements, full of care. This text is an advice to care-burdened and anxious people, and it tells them what they are to do with their cares and troubles.

There are many such people in this world. Many with real cares, and not a few with cares that exist only in their own fancy. Some have few cares and small, others have great cares and many of them. In any case it is a great mistake to fret and worry over our cares, for, as everybody knows, fretfulness and anxiety will not lessen the cares or avert the troubles, but, on the contrary, will make us feel them all the more, and weaken our power of resistance. We all know this.

True wisdom consists in doing the best we can, and, having done so, letting our hearts rest in peace. But, alas! how few practice this philosophy. Most people brood over their cares, and imagine all possible evils, until their minds become enfeebled and embittered, and after all this has been gone through, the care is not lessened in the least.

But what is a man to do? We find that the mind wanders back again and again to our cares, whether we will or not. Something can often be done by telling our trouble to a friend. A true friend can at least give us sympathy, which is to the care-burdened often a most helpful thing. Perhaps he can give more than sympathy. He may be able to cast

a new light on what troubles us, a light that will dissipate the care. He may even be able to render us substantial help, and so bring our trouble to an end by removing the occasion of it.

This is the plan Paul advises us to adopt. He bids us carry our burdens of care to a friend, and that friend the truest, best, kindest, wisest, richest and mightiest of all. He bids us go with our cares to God. We are to tell Him what troubles us, and to put into His hand whatever perplexes us, that He may manage it for us. Pause and think what this really means, and what wondrous possibilities of help are here. God is able and willing to take up our

burden and bear it for us. Having all power and wisdom, He is able to guide to the best of issues things that have quite passed beyond our power and control. When you have once committed any matter of business to a friend who is able to carry it through, and is himself absolutely trustworthy, you lay aside the burden from your own mind. You are satisfied that in his hands all will be well. Can you not do the same when the friend to be trusted is God? He never fails to bring to the best possible issue whatever is trusted to Him; never disappoints any hope that rests on His promise. It would be a great thing to have the friendship of the wisest man on earth, and be able to consult him in any perplexity; a great thing to have the richest and most powerful monarch as our friend, and be able at all times to fall back on him for help; a great thing to have the kindest heart that beats beneath the skies to sympathise with us in time of trouble. But God is all this, and more than all this, and we are more than welcome to go to Him with our anxieties. We are to go with the greatest; they are not too great for Him to remedy. We are to go with the least; they are not too little for Him to care for. Whatever troubles us, whether it be real or imaginary, great or small, we are to carry to God in prayer and supplication. The man who has a grief that crushes his very soul; the woman whose heart is almost broken by sorrow; the child with its childish care-a care that older people might only laugh at-is asked to carry that care to God. He can understand the child's heart as well as that of the man and the woman, and it is a joy to Him to see the young draw near to seek His sympathy and help. Let the merchant come with the cares of his business, the mother with the cares of her household, the father with the cares of his family, the youth with the troubles he meets, the maiden with whatever vexes her, the boy with the troubles of his school-days,-make them known unto God. All are welcome, and are always welcome. not imagine any trouble too trivial to carry to God. often the little troubles of life that make it a desert.

Do

It is

Go

with the most insignificant to God.

Whatever troubles

you, He will not regard as beneath His notice or unworthy of His attention. He who watches the flight of the sparrow, and knows the number of hairs upon our heads, will gladly

listen to our prayers. trust of a human soul our cares to Him, the trust Him.

It is His delight to meet with the in Himself, and the more we carry more do we show that we really

There is one element, however, that must not be forgotten. Along with prayer there is to be thanksgiving. Much care arises from our looking too extensively on the dark side of things, looking too much at our griefs and cares, and forgetting our joys and comforts. It is in itself, in many cases, almost a cure for care and sorrow to turn the mind to look at our blessings and privileges. The Apostle would have us look at the bright side of things, and this in order that we may give thanks unto God for the blessings we have received from Him. Try this plan of his, and carry it out as a whole. Go to God in prayer, and tell Him what troubles you; ask His help, and tell Him you commit this thing to His care. Then having done so, look at your own circumstances and position. Think how much you enjoy that many want. Think even when you have loss and suffering, how many are far worse than you, and specially how many there are who know nothing of that Friend to whom you can carry all your griefs. Then give thanks unto God for all His mercies toward you.

Try this as a cure for your cares. Try it and you will find your soul refreshed, and the sky above you cleared as if a breeze from Eden had swept across the land. Oh, do not think this is a useless thing! Try it, honestly, earnestly try it, and one of two things is sure to come to pass; either the burden of your care will be removed, or such strength will be given you to bear it that, instead of your becoming exhausted and weakened thereby, you will grow stronger and stronger through the healthful exercise.

The Turned Leaf.

IXTY years ago to-day, yes, just sixty years ago to-day, I turned down that leaf in my Bible," said

an aged Christian to an old friend who had just come in to see her.

"Sixty years," and the tears filled her eyes, "and I've never turned it back again, for it has always been true."

She placed her finger on the open page, and almost unconsciously it seemed to find its way to the verse, so well remembered, so deeply treasured, in the 50th Psalm. Slowly, and with deep emotion, she read it.

"Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me."

Then she continued. "You've known me now for many years, but I've never told you my history, for I can hardly bear, even now, to speak of it; but I've thought sometimes, it may bring glory to His name, who has been so faithful to me; so if you would like to hear it, I will tell it you." I told her I should be much interested. So she proceeded.

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Sixty years ago to-day, a day that can never be forgotten; I was a young widow; my husband died when I was only twenty-three, leaving me with three little children, the youngest just two months old. I was in the very depth of sorrow; it was almost too much for me; still I determined to do my best to keep a home for myself and the little ones, if only the parish would give me some assistance. I applied to the guardians, but in vain; their answer was an order for me and the children to go into the workhouse. At first I refused. What, break up my home, and be separated from my children! No, it was impossible; I would try alone; and I did try, but things got worse and worse with me, starvation stared us in the face, I could not earn enough to keep us, and, having parted with all the furniture that could be spared for food, I was obliged to yield, and again applied to the parish. The answer came; an order for us all to go