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by the word, and reject the communion ser
vice, the worship of saints, and the use of pic tures in worship. Distinguished as orderly and neat, they may be accounted as readily reached by the gospel. Hartford, Conn. THE TRANSITIONS OF A SOUL. By Rev. E. C. Murray, D. D. "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. . . . Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:42-3.) Wherever the gospel is preached these words are a memorial of the grace, love and royal authority of the Redeemer, and an encouragement to the penitent sinner in his direst extremity. The bleeding, gasping dying Saviour snatched from the devil, death and hell the first trophy of the victory of the cross even on the cross and from the cross itself. The first transition of the dying robber's soul was from guilt to grace. For a while he with his fellow joined the brutal, jeering mob in reviling and upbraiding the patient Suf ferer on the middle cross. There was none to take pity and no comforter, except the broken-hearted mother, the beloved disciple, and a few trembling, weeping women. But suddenly into the holy fellowship of this de voted band the robber was brought by divine grace, "convicting him of sin, of righteous ness, and of judgment." That startling title over the head of the crucified One, the dignity of his bearing and the sweet benignity of his countenance, his prayer for his murderers, the very words bandied about by the railing mob, brought back with a flash of recollection to this Jew the lessons of his childhood. "The Christ- -King of Israel ? Chosen of God -Son of God ? He saved others" ? the significance of these words gripped him. He had found the Messiah 1 Then those three crosses became typical of the saved, the unsaved, and the Saviour. The robber on the left had guilt in his heart and guilt on his head; he on the right had guilt in his heart but no Jonger on his head; and the divine Sufferer in the midst had no guilt in his heart but "bore our sins in his body on the tree." The penitent's first concern was for his fel low criminal. "Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds : but this man hath done nothing amiss." Then: "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." This re markable confession and prayer fell like sooth ing balm on ears throbbing with the pain of blasphemous revilings. And the response was instantaneous: "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise." Luke had already given us a glimpse of the transition of a soul from grace to glory in the story of "a certain beggar named Laza rus, lying at the gate, full of sores. And the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom." But now in the dying robber we see the transitions of a soul from guilt to grace and from grace to glory. In Lew Wallace's "The Fair God" there is a story of a girl who saw three worlds in one day: the subterranean abode in which she was reared from infancy, the outer world of sun shine and beauty into which she was released, and the world of departed spirits into which her soul passed that day. The crucified rob ber that morning was in the prison house of sin ; at noon he was ' ' delivered from the bond age of corruption into the glorious liberty o! the children of God"; in the evening he was in paradise. In the morning he was a con demned felon; at noon he was a pardoned sinner; in the evening he was in Abraham's bosom. In the morning he was a hardened criminal; at noon a penitent believer; in the evening a glorified saint. "I saw a wonderful thing today," said a preacher after leaving a death-bed; "I found a soul in a state of na ture, brought her into a state of grace, and left her in a state of glory." "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise": there is no intermediate place or state in the transition of the soul from this sinful, sorrow ful world to the highest, holiest heaven. Paul in a vision found himself "caught up to the third heaven ? into paradise"; and was ever after "willing to be absent from the body, and to be at home with the Lord"; "having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." "To him that overcom eth will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God." What a comfort to bereaved ones! "The souls of believers are at their death made per fect in Holiness, and do immediately pass into glory." While we are donning our mourning garments, and gazing upon the crape-covered casket, our beloved is already with him in whose presence is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand there are pleasures for evermore." "Oh change! Oh wondrous change! Burst are the prison bars; This moment, there so low, So agonized, and now Beyond the stars. Oh change, stupendous change! There lies the soulless clod: The day eternal breaks, The new immortal wakes ? Wakes with his God." Greensboro, R. 6, N. C. Heart to Heart REPROVING CHILDREN. A child ought never to be reproved in the presence of others. This is so constant an oc currence that nobody thinks of noticing it; nobody thinks of considering whether it be right or best or not. But it is a great rude ness to the child. It ought never to be done. I knew a mother who made this a rule. Once I saw her little boy behave so boisterously and rudely at the dinner table, in the pres ence of guests, that I said to myself, "Surely this time she will have to break her rule and reprove him publicly-" I saw several telegraphic signals of rebuke, entreaty and warning flash from her gentle eyes to his; but nothing did any good. Nature was too much for him. He could not at that moment force himself to be quiet. Presently she said in a perfectly easy and natural tone, "Oh, Charley, come here a min ute; I want to tell you something." No one at the table supposed it had anything to do with his bad behaviour. She did not intend they should. As she whispered to him I alone saw his cheek flush, and that he looked quickly and imploringly into her face; I alone saw that tears were almost in her eyes. But she shook her head, and he went back to his seat with a manful but very red little face. .In a few moments he laid down his knife and fork and said, "Mamma, will you please excuse me!" "Certainly, my dear-" * Nobody but I understood it or observed tha^ the little fellow had to run very fast to gei out of the room without crying. Afterward^ she told me she never sent a child away fron the table in any other way. L "But what would you do," said I, "if h/ were to refuse to ask to be excused?" i "Do you think he could," she replied, "when he sees that I am only trying to savd him from pain?" In the evening Charley sat in my lap, and was very sober. At last he whispered to me, "I'll tell you a secret, if you won't tell. Didl you think I had done my dinner when I gotj excused? "Well, I hadn't. Mamma made me because | I acted so. That's the way she always does. But 1 haven't had to have it done to me fori ever so long ? not since I was a little fellow (he was eight now) ? and I don't believe I ever shall again." ? Ex THE BEST 1)UG-0UT. By Capt. W. J. Holliday. Somewhere in France. While spending a few days at camp before j proceeding to , I had the pleasure of J meeting a group of North Branch 44 Y" mem bers. Needless to say, we had many interest ing experiences to relate, enquiries for Mon treal friends and general gossip. Almost unconsciously, the conversation shifted to the recent life in the trenches, and many stories, some amusing, others painful, brought the little group closer together. But the talk took on a still deeper tone, a man's thoughts of God and life hereeafter. It was then that one of the little circle told this story: "I'll never forget one night in the winter of '17 when a chum and I were up in the front line and Fritzie was making it unpleasantly hot for us- Shells were dropping pretty thick around us, and he certainly 4 got my wind up' for fair. My chum and I had crawled into a bit of a dug-out, but it would have been 4 good night' if anything had landed on top. *4I looked over at Pete, who was sitting in the corner, and looking mighty serious, too.' 44 'What are you thinking about, Pete?" 44 'I was just thinking, B., isn't God just about the best dug-out, after all!' " Say, Captain, I was surprised, because Pete wasn't what you'd call a religious chap, but it got me that night, and I've never forgotten it, and every scrap I went into after that I thought of what Pete had said." And so I pass Pete's query on. Is God the best dug-out for you? Have you found Him yet? Don't wait, though, until you strike the front line trenches where shells are popping all around. Settle it now, and remember that He wants to be and will be, if you let Him, more than a dug-out, a Friend who will stick to you in the trghtest corner, and help you 4^carry on." Send out that S. O- S. call now and prove Him. 4 4 Behold I stand at the door and knock, if any man hear my voice and open the door I will come in and will sup with him and he with me." (Rev. 3:20.) ? Montreal Presbyterian Record. 4 4 Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind. Spare us to our friends, soften us to our enemies. Bless us, if it may be, in all our innocent endeavors. 'J[ ? Robert Louis Steven son.