Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Abraham's trial
 Remarkable animals
 The eagle's nest
 Tupe of Rarotonga
 The golden key
 The blind negro of Berbice
 Phoebe and the plums
 The poor man raised from the...
 Little Annie
 The tunnel
 The blind man in prison
 Little preachers
 "That's what you get by being in...
 Wonderful escape
 Bread found after many days
 A visit to blind Lucy's cottag...
 Juvenile hymn
 The native reader
 Maurice Sullivan
 Obstinacy overcome by kindness
 The holy child
 Back Cover

Title: My own book, or, Select narratives and instructions suitable for youth
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001701/00001
 Material Information
Title: My own book, or, Select narratives and instructions suitable for youth
Alternate Title: Select narratives and instructions suitable for youth
My own book
Physical Description: Book
Creator: Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A Board of Publication ( Publisher )
Publisher: Presbyterian Board of Publication
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Publication Date: 1850
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001701
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA1751
ltuf - ALH5192
oclc - 11610420
alephbibnum - 002234756

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Page i
    Title Page
        Page ii
        Page iii
    Table of Contents
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
    Abraham's trial
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    Remarkable animals
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    The eagle's nest
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Tupe of Rarotonga
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    The golden key
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
    The blind negro of Berbice
        Page 55
        Page 55a
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Phoebe and the plums
        Page 58
        Page 59
    The poor man raised from the dust
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    Little Annie
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    The tunnel
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
    The blind man in prison
        Page 73
        Page 73a
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Little preachers
        Page 79
        Page 80
    "That's what you get by being in bad company"
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    Wonderful escape
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
    Bread found after many days
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    A visit to blind Lucy's cottage
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
    Juvenile hymn
        Page 100
        Page 101
    The native reader
        Page 102
        Page 102a
        Page 103
    Maurice Sullivan
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
    Obstinacy overcome by kindness
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
    The holy child
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
    Back Cover
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
Full Text

zNM gf

THE EAGLE'S NEST. Frontilpice. see p 33.







Um4.~ according to th Awn of Omeess. inte yow JIMS b
A *. O0mr df the of mi DiPrIt Ondg Ar the luauw
Disrict of Psmlvaad.

Utstoypd by W. IL & LOTE. No. 1I9ML Jamesohs,


Akhim's TriI, (initial act,)
Remaukabl Animals, (cut,)
The Eage' Nt, (iaiI =at,)
Top of uatoa, *
The Golas Ky, (two cat,)
The Blind Nero of BDUe, (et,)
Pbomre ad the PluM, (potry,)
The Poor Man miad from the Dl,
Little Ana
The Ta nIl, in -
The Blitnd Mn in Prion, (l,) *
Little Pecbwh (poery,) -
Tht'. what you et by being in bed Comrpy,
Wooadeffl Eap,
Bread fond aftr may Dys,
A Visit to BlDd Lucy's Cottag
Jvenile Hymn, -
The Native Reader, (ot,)
Mares Sulliavn,
obtiaaly ow omo by Kib dM.,
TheBdy Oh,




* .64
* .73

d i



I HAyV devoted some midnight hours to compil"a
from various sources, a little book f~rour insar;
tion and amusement. I claim no otfer merit than "
a desire to profit andt pleas~ju and your contain--
poraries. I trust you will be so much interested
in the result of my labor, that you will each be
disposed to say, This iiindeed Mr own Boorl
Not that I would have you cherish feeling of
selfishness. You know how earnestly I hae incul-
cated an opposite feeling, The book is designed for
every little boy and girl into whose hands it may
, as much as it is for you. One thing pe..


daly I wish you to bear in mind. The object of
reading should be profit, more than amusement.
If you should omit or skim over such an article as
"Abraham's Trial," for the sake of reading such a
one as the "Wonderful Escape," you will do great
injustice to yourselves, as well as sadly disappoint
Philaddphia, Dec. 1850.



of GeneS& had
been the me ti
of the SbathW
At th ed t
afte oon .
thbe childmr
having be ar-
rauged* so that
every boy al
5irl could pa the superintendent's desk, a &hat byma,
- asg5 ead be thu cmmenaod:


"I wish you now, my dear children, all to close your
Bibles, but not to put them away. Very likely we shall
want to refer to some passages by and by. I need not
ask you what the subject is, and where it is to be found.
It is the Trial of Abraham, you know; of which we read
in the 22d of Genesis. Where was Abraham dwelling
when it happened ?"
"In Beersheba," several boys reply.
"In what country did Beersheba lie ?"
"In the land of Canaan."
"Whereabouts in Canaan was it ?"
"Quite at the south," answers a boy in the first class.
An elder girl adds in a low voice, "From Dan to Beer-
"Yes, the saying 'from Dan to Beersheba' was used
when the children of Israel dwelt in Canaan, to mean
Sfrom north to south,' and may help us to recollect that
Abraham's dwelling was in the southern b&der of the
land. Was any part of the land his own?"
No, sir; not so much as to set his foot on."
"True, my boy; and who was it that used those
S I r."p
"J mean Stephen, I think, in the 7th chapter of th


Acts of the Apostles. To whom then did Beersheb
belong ?"
"To the Philistines."
"Yes, and Abimelech their king was Abraham's friend,
and allowed him there to pitch his tents; for the Patri-
arch had with him a number of persons besides his own
family, to attend to his cattle, and so on. Why had he
fixed on Beersheba for his home ?"
After a moment's pause, one of the girls replies, "Be-
cause there was a wvll of water there."
"Yes, the word Beer means well. You read the reason
why the name was given to the place in the 21st chapter,
the 25th to the 31st verses. But I cannot stay to talk
of this now. Beersheba was a very pleasant and fruitful
place. There were, perhaps, several wells. Travellers
tell us there are two now. All around there were the
green meadows where the gras for the cattle grew, man
the cornfields which Abraham had sown. High moun-
tains on one side shut out the sandy desert, and on the
ether the country stretched away to where you might
just see the hills of Moriah like a thin blue cloud in the
distance. But let us now visit Abraham's tent. It is
very early in the morning. The cattle are ask their
pes.. All is silent, except the early song Q .uW


there a little bird. The atm are still twinkling faintly
in the sky. In the east and over the bills of Moriah
there is a rosy brightness in the clouds that tells us the
sun will soon be up. The tents stand still and white
upon the dewy grass. Abraham's is the largest and by
itself. Go in. There is the old man, ready dressed,
busily moving about. But what a face of sorrow he has!
That youth by his side, how he wonders to see his father
so silent and full of grief. What can it mean? He looks
up to ask. But Abraham only puts up his finger. 'Hush!
my son, you will awake your mother: be quick, and we
will go.' Then footsteps are heard outside. Here they
are, father,' the young man says; all is ready.' Then
they lift the curtaips of the tent, and without saying
good-bye to any one, start upon their journey. Now,
my little ones, I want you to explain this to me. What
was the young man's name?"
"And why was Abraham so sorrowful ?"
"Because God had commanded him to"-
"No, my dear, tell me exactly what God said. Can
any in this little class say the very words ?"
"' Tke now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou
Imst, Ad get thee into the land of Moriah, and ofr

him there for a burnt-offering upon eae of the mountsi
which I will tell thee of.'"
"Quite correct: and when did God say this?"
"In the night"
And when did Abraham obey ?"
"Early in the morning."
"Was it a pleasant thing then for Abraham to do ?"
"0 no, sir."
"No, indeed, we do not wonder that he was sad! Thy
so, that was hard; for children are always dear to their
parents: but thine only on, that made it harder still; for
when Isaac was gone, there would be none left to comfort
the mourning parents: then Isaac, whom thou lot-
why, Abraham loved Isaac perhaps more than evem yor
dear fathers can ever love you, because he was the child
of promise, the thild of Abraham's old age, who God had
said should grow up to be very great, and be a blessing
to the world! Must Isaac now die? And how? I*ot
by a stranger's hand-that would be very terrible; but by
his father's. Abraham himself must put him to death.
How could he bear to do it? how could he bear to thinT
of it? Yet he stayed not one moment. Ha ohza=
Goo. God had spoken; and though it srely
hi% it was enough. Now this, my dear


example for us. And there are just two things in
Abraham's way of obeying God that I want you to
"The first is, what one of you just said, He rose up
early in the morning;' he set about it at once. Now I
*know that some of you, when you have any hard or
troublesome thing to do, have a way of putting it off as
long as you can. A difficult lesson perhaps, a disagree-
able duty, something that you do not like. To be sure,
it must be done some time; but you seem to comfort
yourselves that it need not be done now, a*d wait and
wait, until at last it is impossible to wait any longer.
Then you are obliged to do it. But is it easieQ Tell
me, boys."
No, sir," two or three voices confess. One adds,
cc harder."
"Aye, to be sure! The longer you have delayed, the
woAbe it is. You have double trouble then, firstthe
looking forward to it, and then the doing'it. Yes, and I
might say, the shame also of having waited so long.
If you had set to it at once, it would have been over, and
you 4buld have been happy. Don't forget this lesson.
Who it that said, I made haste, and delayed not to
he* maUommandmments ?1 "


SDavid, sir." One or two of the older scholars turn
to the passage in Psa. cxix.
Ah, David may have learned it from Abraham. Now,
I want you to learn the same. And, my dear boys and
girls, of all the commandments of God, there is own which
it will be very sinful and very sad if any of you put off
obeying. It is the commandment to repent of our sins,
and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. How many young
peoplei:oem to say, Yes, I will do so, but not now.'
Why?' Will it be easier when they are older? 0 no,
believe me. Many who have thus delayed have never
repented at all; and have died at last in their sins, de-
spairing. Depend upon it, your hymn speaks truth-
"Ti, emier work, ift gi
To serve the Lard betimes.'
God says to the youngest, My child, give me thine l~art
-give it me to-day; for now is the accepted time, now is
the day of salvation.'
"The second thing in Abraham's obedience is this; he
did as God commanded him without asking the re sa
why. Now, you and I know' hy the command was
given. It was"- -
"To try Abraham's faith."


"Yes; in what word of the passage do we fiad that
God did tempt Abraham."
What does tempt' mean in that verse ?"
To try;" to prove;" to test," are anwr given
from different parts of the room, according to the phrae-
ology which the teachers had severally used in explaining
the word in question.
We know then the reason of the command. But did
Abraham ?"
o, sir; not till afterwards."
"Exactly. Yet how often, in that terrible night, and
during the three days' journey to Moriah, must he have
wondered and longed to understand why God had bid
him to do so strange and shocking a thing! But he did
not ask. He was willing to obey without understanding
it. Like a little child who keeps fast hold of his father's
hand in the dark, and runs along by his side, never stop-
ping to ask, Where are you taking me ?' so did Abraham
follow where God might choose to lead him.
"The teacher of a mission school in India was once
talking tolher class about the text, 'Thy will be done on
earth, as it is in heaven,' and she asked,' How do they
do God's will in heaven?' The children gave different

answers. One said 'quickly,' another 'fully,' other
'happily;' but one dear child, when all the rest had done,
gave as her answer, without asking any questions.' The
little girl was right. This is the angels' way, and be
sure it is the true way. I should like to see you obey
your parents and teachers thus. This would show that
you had the spirit which God loves to see in his own
children. Those who love you best, I know, are always
ready to give you a reason for what they tell you, if it is
proper that you should have one; but sometimes it is not
proper, and then you ought to obey them contentedly,
trusting that they understand much more about it than
you can. It is a very bad sign when young folks will not
do what is told them without always wanting to know
why. I once read of a little girl who was so food of
asking questions of this sort that at last her friends and
companions gave her a new name, Lrrr. Miss Wwr-wuv.
This teased her so much that she determined to mend, got
rid of the habit, and lost the name. Are there any Why-
whys here? If so, my dear children, remember that your
teachers and parents are wiser than yourselves, that you
cannot always know the reason of what they tell you, and
that if you trust in them as you ought, you will always be
glad and willing to obey.


"Now can any of you give me a Scripture text, or
another Scripture example, of obeying GOD without ask-
ing questions ?"
No answer.
"Well, then, do you remember an example of some
persons who did ask questions, and so brought themselves
into great trouble ?"
At length an elder girl replies, Adam and Eve."
"Thank you, my dear. It was the very answer I
wished for. Now who taught them to question Giod's
command ?"
"Quite right. What he said to Eve comes to this:
SAsk for a reason; woy has God forbidden you t. touch
that tree?' And Eve listened; and because she could
not understand God's way, she chose her own, and Eden
was lost.
""ere then are two things to be remembered about
serving GOD. The first is, to obey him at once; and the
other, to do it without asking questions."
"What made Abraham do God's will so readily ?"
"Faith. He trusted God."
"Where in Scripture do we find that ?"
Many voices answer, "In. the eleventh of Hebrews,"

and half a dozen scholars at the same time read the ITth
True. It is only faith that can make us wilig to
obey God. The man or the child that trusts his Father
in heaven, will be ready to do all his will, whatever it
may be, readily, without questioning, knowing that it must
be best. I hope, my dear children, you will understand
this better every day you live. Abraham understood
it well. But we must now follow him a little further.
Do any of you know the distance from Beersheha to
No reply.
"It was about forty-two miles."
Some of the boys look surprised at the smallness of the
distance, and one or two seem ready to exclaim, "Why,
they were three days upon the journey !"
I see what you are thinking of, my boys. In then
railroad times three days seem a long while to be travel-
ling so short a distance."
"Only fourteen miles a day, sir," rejoins one of the
Sbriskest lads.
"True; but remember Abraham had to walk The am
was to carry the food they would want upon their journey."
"And the wood for the burnt-offering."


SThank you for reminding me. Then Abraham was
old and feeble, and could not walk fast. Besides, in
sorrow the feet move slowly. So they travelled on;
Sarah at home, perhaps thinking they had gone to look
after some distant flocks; Isaac bright and cheerful;
Abraham very solemn, with God's dreadful command
seeming like a great black cloud to hang over him, unable
to speak a word about it to his son, yet resolved to obey.
At last, he lifts up his head and looks-there it is!-a
dark and rocky hill standing among many others, some
higher than itself, some lower. It was the very spot he
had seen in his night vision, when God spoke to him.
How his heart must have sunk within him as he gazed
upon it! Yet he tries to speak cheerfully, as he calls his
two men-servants to stop, and says"-
Abide ye here with the ass, and I and the lad will go
yonder to worship, and come again to you."
"Did Abraham really think that Isaac would come
back with him ?"
"No, sir."
"I am not so sure of that. I do not think he would have
said what he did if he had not thought there was some
chboe of it. Ah,.Thomas (to one of the elder boys,) I
am glad to see you turning to the eleventh chapter of


Hebrews. There is something there that will help us to
understand this better."
"The 19th verse, sir, isn't it ? Accounting that God
was able to raise him up, even from the dead.' "
"Yes. Abraham scarcely perhaps knew what to think.
It might be, that after he had killed his son, God would
bring him to life again. So he hoped somehow that they
might return together, and spoke as cheerfully as he
could. Look at them as they walk along! One of
Isaac's arms supports the wood upon his shoulder; on
the other his aged father leans. Slowly, silently, they
are climbing the hill. Isaac now is very quiet and
solemn; he is .thinking upon the GOD they are about to
worship, perhaps asking in his own mind what makes
Abrahard so sad: then he begins to wonder what they
will have for a sacrifice. At last he speaks: 'My fa-
ther!' See how Abraham starts, like one awakened
from a dream. But in an instant he answers, Here I
am, my son.' Then Isaac puts the question that was
upon his mind."
"Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb
for a burnt-offering ?"
And did Abraham then tell Isaac that Ae was to be
the lamb ?"

"No, sir."
"Ah, he had not yet the heart to say it! But what
did he answer?"
My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt-
"'So they went both of them together. And they
came to the place which God had told him of.' Then *
Abraham must let Isaac know what he had been com-
manded to do. We do not read what words the poor
broken-hearted father used, nor how the loving son re-
ceived the strange and terrible news. We only know
that the preparations for the sacrifice went on. Stones
were rolled together for an altar, and the wood was laid,
and the cords were passed around Isaac's hands and feet.
What a patient and obedient son he must have been!
For remember, he was not a little child, but a strong
grown-up lad, almost a young man. If he had pleased,
then, he might have struggled with his old father, and
got himself away. But he was dutiful both to Abraham
and to God, and submitted without a murmur. Like
Jsxvs, of whom we read-you recollect the passage ?"
"' He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a
sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his
mouth.' "

"Yes, the Saviour suffered in meeknes and silence,
because it was his Father's will. That will was dear
both to Abraham and Isaac, therefore without one word
of complaint they were ready to obey the command.
See the dear gentle lad there stretched upon the wood,
the wisp of straw ready lighted on the ground close by,
Abraham standing over the altar, just lifting up the
knife;-but hark! was that the roll of thunder? The
father starts and trembles, the son opens his eyes; but in
another moment the sound is heard again, distinct in
words, Abraham, Abraham.' The knife falls from his
hand. Faintly and wonderingly he answers, 'Here am
I.' Then what joyful words!"-
'Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou
anything unto him; for now I know that thou ferept
God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only
son, from me.'
."And what then, my children? 0 do you not seem
to see him catching up the knife, cutting in an instant
the cords that bound his son, clasping Isaac to his heart
again, and with sobs and tears of joy trying to speak his
thankfulness to God! Then there is a faint bleating,
like a lamb's, among the bushes. They turn their heads
to look. What is it?"


"A ram caught in a thicket by his horns."
"Just what Abraham wanted. God himself had sent
it. Soon it was brought and laid upon the altar, and
father and son united in a joyful thank-offering to the
Lord. Down the hill, and all the way to their own
home, how they must have talked together of God's
great goodness, and with what new love must Abraham
have looked on Isaac, as on one alive from the dead!
Now I have already told you of two things which
Abraham's obedience may teach us. There are just two
more that we may learn from this happy ending to the
story. Tell me, why did God choose this way of prov-
ing Abraham's faith? Think now. He might have told
him to do many things: why did he command him to
sacrifice his son?"
After a short pause, and two or three vague unsuitable
answers, an elder girl replies, "To try if Abraham loved
God better than anything in the world."
"'Thank you, my dear. You could not have given a
better answer. 'Better than anything in the world;'
this was the question. Better even than Isaac, the son
of his old age, the child of promise, his father's darling!
And Abraham showed that z DID. He could give up
Isaac for God.. He loved his son very much, but he


loved God with all his heart, and with all hie soM, ad
with all his strength.' And remember, my children, this
is the way we should love Him too,-first and best. Better
than parents, or brothers, or friends. Listen to me,
little ones, and I will tell you something you will not
forget. When I was a child like you, I learned a rhyme
one day that I shall remember all my life long. It was

SLove fath and mother,
And sister and brother,
And one another;
But love God beat of a'

Is it not easy? Now say it after me. There, that will
do. Tell it to your parents when you go home; andnever
forget that God is so great and so good that you msut
love him best of all.'
"One more lesson, boys, and we will close. What
name did Abraham give to the place ?"
Mount Moriah."
"No, surely, that was its name before Abraham went."
"Oh, I see; Jehovah Jireh."
"True; and I suppose your teacher have told ym
what these words mean."


"The Lord will provide."
"Exactly; and you see it became a common saying to
this day, as we read. And a very wise and true saying
it is, The Lord will provide;' but what, and for whom?
He provided a ram for Abraham to sacrifice, and pro-
vided it too when the old man had been doing his duty,
though it seemed to be leading him into Tearful trouble.
Learn this, then, my -beloved elder scholars especially.
Do that i right, and the Lord will provide' for you.
I know that to obey God may sometimes appear very
sad work, and a sure way, somehow, to get into trouble.
Much easier, for the time, to forget him; to sin, to follow
the counsels of the world, and the whisperings of your
own sinful hearts. If you are resolved upon what is
right, thee may be trials hard to bear, self-denial of a
painful kind, the scoffs of bad companions and wicked
men. But do not mind it; obey God. What do you
think a heathen or ungodly man would have said to
Abraham, if he had seen him toiling up the hill to sacri-
.fice his son? 'What a fool the man is! That is all he
getsby serving the Lord. Why does he not give up his
religion, and keep Isaac alive?' Ah, but you see how
wrong and foolish this would have been. Abraham
might have kept his son, but he would have offended


God, and lost the promise. As it was, he kept his faith.
God was. with him; and oh, how much happier he was
than if the trial had never been! And be sure, my dear
children, while you stand to what is right, God will be
with you. It may sometimes seem much pleasanter to
do what is wrong; but in the end you will find that to
serve God is best. Whatever you may lose or suffer by
it for a time, in the end the Lord will provide that
which will more than make up for everything; and it will
fill you with joy, far more than I can tell, that you
made the right choice and dared to keep to it. Here
on earth perhaps it may be so, but in heaven it surely
will. There all who have denied themselves and for-
saken the world for God's sake, will share all the
glory and blessedness which he himself can give. How
happy a thing will it then appear to have loved ad
served him faithfully! For all such, said Jesus, shall
receive an hundred fold, and shall inherit uvzLASTnu
"Now unite with me in prayer. And while we
let us all remember that Father who 'so lovef /
that he 'spared not his own Son, but delivered i up
for us all.' Yes, Isaac, the son of Abraham, was sped;
but Jesus, the Son of God, was slain a sacrifice. Oh, it

was a hard trial for the aged father, of whom we have
been talking, to lay his son upon the altar; but how much
God must have loved us, to send his only-begotten Son
to save us! My dear children, let us think of this, and
thank God for it now; while we feel quite sure that He
who has done so much for us will be ready to hear and
save us always, and give us all good things we need,
if we do but put our trust in him."


GaNrr THOBBURN says that he once saw a horse in the
neighbourhood of New York dragging a load of coal in a
cart. The horse on a slow walk came up to a child sit-
ting in the middle of the road, gathering up the dust with
his hands, and making mountains out of the mole-hills."
The horse stopped-he smelt the child-there was no
room to turn off. With his thick lips he gathered the
frock between his teeth, lifted the child up and laid him
gently on the outside of the wheel-track, and went on
his way rejoicing;" and well he might rejoice-he had
done a noble deed.

A FAzmI in the country had a crazy woman in charge,
and in close confinement. One day they went out, leav-
ing no one in the house but this woman and the dog.
While they were gone she managed to escape from her


room, and coming into the kitchen, she began to pull
coals out of the fire-place and to scatter them about the
floor. The faithful dog exerted himself to the utmost of
his ability to put out the fire, but finding it beyond his
capacity, he alarmed the neighbours, and brought help in
time to save the building. Now this dog seemed to un-
derstand that the woman was deranged, or he would not
have questioned her right to burn up the house. He con-
sidered himself in charge, and bound to take care of the
property, in spite of her. Was this instinct only ?

Mr oldest son was crossing the fields in the country,
some distance from any dwelling, when he was pursued
by a large and fierce dog, belonging to the gentleman
whose land he was crossing. The lad was alarmed, and
ran 4r his life. He struck into a piece of woods and the
dog gained upon him, when he looked around to see how
near the. creature was, and stumbling over a stone, he
pitched off a precipice and broke his leg. Unable to
move, and at the mercy of the beast, the poor fellow saw
the dog coming down upon him, and expected to be
seized and torn; when, to his surprise, the dog came near,
perceived that the boy was hurt, instantly wheeled about

and went off for that aid which he could not render him-
self. There was no one within the reach of the child's
voice, and he must have perished there, or have dragged
his broken limb along, and destroyed it, so as to render
amputation necessary, if the dog had not brought him help.
He held up his leg, and it hung at a right angle, showing
him plainly the nature of his misfortune, and the necessity
of lying still. The dog went off toward the nearest house
and barked for help. Unable to arrest attention, he made
another visit of sympathy to the boy, and then ran to the
house, there making such demonstrations of anxiety that
the family followed him to the place where the child lay.
Now observe that this dog was pursuing the boy a an
enemy; but the moment he saw his enemy protrte and
in distress, his rage was turned to pity, and he ew to
his relief. Here was true feeling, and the ourse he pure
sued showed good judgment. He was a dog of herfad
head. Very few men, not all Christians, help their ene-
mies when they are down. Some do not help their friends
when they fall. This dog was better than many mea
who claim to be good men. I do not say that he res-
omd in this matter; but there is something in his conduct
on this occasion that looks so much like the right kind of
filing and action, that I think it deserves to b recorded


to his credit. As few dogs will read the record, I com-
mend the example to all mankind for their imitation.

MY father had a dog whose
memoirs ought to be written.
His name was Fidelity. My
private opinion is, that the
life of a good dog is a better
example than that of a bad
man. The peculiar feature
of the dog's character was
Shis regard for religious places,
religious men, and religious
meetings. He was punctual
in his attendance upon family-
worship, never being out of
hearing when the household
was assembled. He attended the weekly prayer-meet-
ings in the village, which were held from hose to
house, notice being given of the place of meeting on
the Sabbath. He never mistook the evening, or the
hour, or the house. Nor did he depend on watching
the family, to follow them to the place of prayer. hi.


quently he was shut up in a room to prevent his attend-
ance, and he would dash through a pane of glass and be
at the right house before those who shut him up. He
was once confined in an out-house that had no floor; he
dug a hole under the sill, and reached the meeting h-
the second hymn was finished. On the Sabbath
a regular attendant at church, and always occupied the
square step at the head of the pulpit stairs. If there was
the least disturbance among the dogs below, as there will
be in the country sometimes, he would rise and frown his
displeasure upon them until it was settled. One day he
was so pleasantly occupied with his canine acquaintance
at the door, that the time slipped by and the minister
commenced the service. Instantly he gave a yelp, ex-
pressing his mortification, and hastening to his place,
cowered down in attitude of shame, which he maintaimd '
to the clode of the service. Perhaps the most singulM
trait in his character was his unwillingness to stay over
night in a house where they did not have family-worship.
He was in the habit of visiting among my father's minit
trial acquaintance, but one day he followed a gentleman
from a neighboring town to his house, and made hie-
self quite at home, evidently intending to spe a bw
day, as he had done at other places. Thepv-g


closed in, and at length the family retired for the might,
without being assembled for prayers. The dog made his
way out of the house, and travelled home as fast as his
legs would carry him. This practice was so common
with him, there could be no doubt of his views.
I could fill pages with the record of similar facts, but I
am hindered by two inquiries: Who will believe them?
and, What good will they do? I have no ridiculous
idea that this dog had any religious sensibility; much less
do I imagine that he or his species has a moral nature,
capable of cultivation; but I love to think that a wise and
jnfinitely benevolent Creator has endowed the humblest
of his creatures with sources of enjoyment, and powers
of usefulness too, so that in their several ranks and spheres
they answer high and important ends in the economy of
the universe. I do not kno what is that spirit of the
beast which goeth downward;" nor how much inelli-
gence it may have pleased God to bestow upon these
lower orders of being; nor what mode of communicating
impressions to each other they have. But thee facts
may be of use in exalting God's creatures in the estima-
tion of those who are wont to regard inferior animals as
unworthy of their attention and sympathy.



SAs an eagle Itirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spred-
eth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings; m
the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with
him."-Deut. xxxi. 11, 1.

U have often
eard of Moe .
the man of God,
who was made

brought them out
of the land of
Egypt. Thus
words that we
have just read are part of a holy song which he 0t
coImand of God for the children of Imel to-- in m-n
3 )(s)


membrance of the great things the Lord had done for
them in bringing them out of Egypt, causing them to pass
through the Red Sea on dry land, guiding them through
the wilderness in the day by a cloud, and by a pillar of
fire by night, feeding them with bread from heaven, and
water out of the flinty rock, giving them the knowledge of
his will, and bringing them in safety to the promised land,
which when Moses wrote they were about to enter.
If you will read the ninth and tenth verses, you will
find it said, "The LoRD's portion is his people; Jacob is
the lot of his inheritance. He found him in a desert land,
and in the waste howling wilderness; he led him about,
he instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye."
This means that the Lord looked upon the Jews with as
much pleasure as you would look upon anything that you
very dearly loved; that he took care of them in their
travels through the wilderness and that he was as anxious
to keep them from all harm, as a man is careful to pre-
vent anything entering his eye. How very good was
God to the Jews! how much they ought to have loved
him! And he is as full of love o those who serve him
no* as he was to the Jews of old. But I must explain
the tet which describes what God did for his people
4 under the character of an eagle and heroung.

This passage of Scripture is what is termed an emblem.
God is so great and glorious that we could never learn
anything of him, if he did not teach us by very simple
means. This he has done in his word; and one of the
ways by which he is pleased to make himself known to
us, is by making use of those things we do understand,
and then applying them to himself; so that we may learn
the nature and character of God from what we know of
the nature and character of those things which are around
us. Now whenever this appears in a passage of Scrip-
ture, such passage is always an emblem. As it is impos-
sible to learn the lesson whidh an emblem is intended to
teach, unless we understand the emblem by which it is
taught, I shall
I. EXPLAIN THE ZMBLE "As an eagle stirreth up her
nest, fluttereth over ier young, spreadeth abroad her
wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings," and
Loan alone did lead him, and there was no strange god
with him."
I. I shall explain the emblem.
The eagle is a large strong bird. It is called a bird of
prey, because it kills and feeds upon other animal. Some-.


times it feeds upon animals which it has not killed, such
as camels which have died in the wilderness; and if a
poor traveller should perish in the desert, he is sure to be
eaten by the eagles. Thus Jesus said, "Wheresoever
the carcass is, there will the eagles be gathered together."
The wings of this bird are so strong that it can fly very
high; its eyes are so bright that it can look at the glori-
ous sun in the middle of a summer's day; and its talons
so strong that it can fasten them into the flesh of its prey,
and then fly away with it high up in the air, and carry it
to its nest. I have no doubt you will think that the eagle
is a very cruel bird, and so it is to all other animals that
it can kill. It has even been know to take little children
to its nest, and kill and Cat them. But-although it is so
cruel to everything else, it is ry kind to its own young
ones. It is written in the text, As an eagle stirreth up
her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her
wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings."
Now I must tell you that eagles live in mountainous
countries. There are some in the highlands of Scotland.
They do not generally build their nests in trees, or on the
ground, like many birds, but on the tops of mountains.
Such places are always cold; and as the young birds need
to be kept warm, the eagle is very careful, in making her


nest, to do everything to prevent the eaglets from taking.
cold. She first gathers a quantity of long sticks, branches,
or twigs of trees, and places them crosswise very carefully
on the cold rock. When this is done, the eagle goes in
search of prey, and having caught a lamb, fox, hare, or
rabbit, she takes the skin and places it on the twigs with
the warm side up, taking care not to cover the whole of
the framework, but to leave the ends of the branches out.
When the nest is properly lined with skins and feathers
of birds, and is very warm, the eagle lays her eggs and
hatches them. In about thirty days the young eaglets
appear. After some time has passed, the young birds
are covered with feathers, and are grown large enough to
leave the nest, but it is so warm and comfortable that
they have no wish to leave it. The old birds however
are not willing to feed them any longer; but since the
young ones would die of hunger if their parents were to
leave them in the nest, the old ones teach them before
they are forsaken, to fly and obtain food for themselves.
This is not a very easy task, for the eaglets do not like to
leave their warm bed. So the eagle stirs them up. To
do this, she perches on the ends of the branches laid at
the bottom of the nest, and shakes them with all her
strength, first on one side and then on the odr. Tid


disturbs the little ones, and they feel very uncomfortable
and make a great noise. When they are once disturbed,
the old bird leaves off shaking the nest. The eaglets,
however, are very much like some children when they
are called in the morning. They wake up and begin to
cry; but if their parents go away without making them
get up, like the sluggard they soon turn over and go to
sleep again. This the eagle knows; so as soon as she has
"stirred them up," to keep them from settling again, she
"fluttereth over them," places her feet upon the nest, and
makes a great noise by flapping her wings. This disturbs
the young ones a great deal more, until at last one, or
perhaps all of them, tumble out of the nest. Now the
eaglets begin to use their wings; but as they cannot yet
fly, they are exposed to great danger. The anxious
parent feels this, and darting under them as they are
fluttering in the air, spreads abroad her wings," takes
them up, and then flying to a great height, she shakes them
off. Again they are tumbling over and over in the air,
and again the eagle darts down, spreads abroad her wings,
"takes them and bears them on her wings" to a place of
safety. This is constantly repeated, until at length the
eaglets are able to fly and seek their own food. And now,
my dear children, having explained the emblem, I shall,


II. Show what lessons are taught by it.
If you look at the ninth verse, you will read, "The
LoRD's portion is his people: Jacob is the lot of his
inheritance." The Jews are sometimes called in the
Bible Jacob, and sometimes Israel, because they descended
from Jacob, to whom the Lord also gave the name of
Israel. It is clear then that one of the lessons to be
learned from this emblem is the goodness of God to the
Jews. I am sure that, although the eagle of which we
have been speaking appeared to treat the young birds
very badly, you are certain it was for their good. If
they had been left in the nest they would have died of
hunger; and they never would have learned to fly and
get their own food, unless they had been disturbed,
tossed in the air, and made to use their own wings. Now
you know a great deal about the Jews. They were in
the land of Egypt four hundred years, and had almost
forgotten the name of God, and the promise he had made
to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, that he would give them
the land of Canaan for their own country. The Egyp-
tians, who did not love the true God, but worshipped
idols, were very cruel to the Jews. They made them
slaves, and ordered all the little boys that were born to
be killed. This was very painful to the Israelites, ad


very displeasing to God. So the Lord determined to bring
them out of Egypt, and for this purpose sent Moses to
deliver them. When the Egyptians found that the Jews
wanted to leave their country to go into the wilderness,
they treated them a great deal worse; but this, instead
of making them willing to stay, only increased their
desire to leave. Like the eaglets disturbed in their nest,
they were unhappy with such rough treatment, and were
glad to get away. Well, at length they were brought
out of Egypt into the wilderness, their cruel enemies
were very sorely punished, and when Pharaoh and his
soldiers followed after them to make them return, God
drowned him and his host in the Red Sea. But when the
Jews came into the wilderness, they were very much like
the eaglets when they fell out of the nest. They were
exposed to what appeared still greater troubles; there
was no food in the wilderness, and they thought they
should die. But, just as the eagle took care that her
young ones, whom she had taken out of the nest, should
not perish, so God cared for his people whom he had
brought from Egypt. Did they want food?-he rained
them manna-"angels' food"-from the skies. Did
they cry for water in the burning desert?-he caused
Moses to strike the flinty rock, and bade the-waters ow.


Did they need some one to guide them in the desert land?
-the angel of his presence led them, in the day by the
pillar of cloud, and in the night by the pillar of ire.
They had no other guide but God, and with him for a
guide they could want no other. Moses and Aaron d1
them, but only as God commanded them to go. "He
led his people like a flock, by the hands of Moses and
Aaron." When their enemies came to fight against
them, the Lord helped them and conquered their foes.
He kept them as the apple of his eye. The poor, foolish
Jews often forgot God, and once, indeed, were so wicked
a to make a golden calf and worship it, saying "This is
the god that brought us out of the land of Egypt." "But
the true God punished them for this wickedness, and said,
" I am the LoaD thy God, that brought thee out of the
land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage." "A am
eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young,
spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them
on her wings, so the LonD ALONz did lead him, and there
was no strange god with him."
There is yet another lemon to be learned from this
This world is very much like Egypt. People love
money, and pleasure, and sin, more than they love God.


No one has the least desire to leave it. Like the Jews,
who had no wish to quit Egypt and travel to Canaan,
the people of the world are unwilling to leave their sins,
their pleasures, and their money, and go to the heavenly
Ganaan. God, however, is not willing to leave them to
perish in their sins, to die and lose their souls. He has
so loved the world as to give his only-begotten Son to
die for sinners, that whosoever believeth on him might
not perish but have everlasting life. He has sent his
holy word to guide, and his ministers to instruct them by
preaching the gospel. Nor are even children forgotten
by him. He has provided for them kind teachers to
direct them in the way that leads to that happy country,
the heavenly Canaan. But although the great and good
God has done so much for them, they do not appear at
all inclined to serve him. They are in the nest of sin
and pleasure, and they wish to stay there. So God, like
the eagle disturbing her young, makes them very unhappy.
They have great troubles. The Holy Spirit fills them
with dreadful fears lest, because of their sins, they should
be cast into hell. Full of sorrow, they cry out, like the
jailer of Philippi, of whom you have read, What must
I do to be saved?" Then the Lord pities them. He
never would have made them so wretched, more than the

eagle would have turned the young birds out of the net,
but for their good. He shows them in his word what
they must do. They must believe on his Son. Yes,
dear children, and so good is God, that as soon as they
believe on Jesus, he pardons all their sins for the sakP
of what Christ has done and suffered, and makes them
his children. Now they have left the world of sin, and
are travelling to the heavenly Canaan. Like the Jews
they have come out of Egypt and are in the wilderness.
Here they have many wants, but all of them are supplied
by God. When they pray, he hears and answers their
prayers; and when wicked men want to lead them into
sin, the Lord helps them and they continue to serve him.
Whenever they look on the pleasures of the world, they
feel they do not want them, for they are striving for the
pleasures of heaven, which, you know, the Bible says
are at God's right hand. They have a very great enemy,
whoin they cannot see, but who often tries to do them
harm-" the devil"-who, as a roaring lion, goeth about
seeking whom he may devour; but God will not suffer
Satan to harm those who are travelling to heaven, for
they are followers of that which is good. They are
therefore, though surrounded by dangers, qte safe; and
just as the Jews were brought out of titongh the

44 THE 3AOLe'I s EsT.
wilderness into Canaan, so God will bring his people out
of this sinful world; he will enable them to serve him
here, and then take them to dwell with him in heaven.
SAs the eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her
young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth
them on her wings, so the LonD alone did lead him, and
there was no strange god with him."
Dear children, are not you like the young eaglets in the
nest? You are sinners, you have very wicked hearts.
The Bible says, All have sinned, and come shdrt of the
glory of God." Children are not free from guilt. Some
are guilty of lying, pilfering, disobedience to parents,
using bad language, quarrelling; and how many are there
who neglect to pray and read God's holy word! Do not
your consciences, my dear children, tell you that you are
sinners? .And if you die in this state, what will become
of you? What a great mercy it is that the Bible points
out to poor sinful creatures, Jesus Christ, as able to save
sinners; and how sweet it is to know that he is able and
willing to save young children; that he has said, "Suffer
litte children to come to me, and forbid them not."
How many times have you heard this, and yet you love
your si. t you have been disturbed in your
nst. OfMPWn you have not spoken the truth,

you have trembled lest, like Ananias, you should be
struck dead, and have your portion in the lake that
burneth with fire and brimstone. Very frequently,
when you think of your sins, you are afraid to got
bed, lest you should die. My dear children, you mui
leave the nest of sin, pray for forgiveness, put your trust
in the Lord Jesus, and love and serve him, and then God
will take care of you in this world, and guide you to


"By the grae of God I am what I a."-1 Coz. xv. 19.

FAR away in the southern part of the world, in the midst
of wide seas, many beautiful little islands are found.
Their shores are lined with coral rocks. Over the valleys
the bread-fruit, cocoa-nut, and palm-trees, spread their
boughs; and around the high mountains, vast numbers of
most beautiful birds are been flying, with their golden,
green, and purple wings. These pleasant little spots are
called the South Sea Islands. The people who live in
them were once all idolaters; but the word of salvation
has been carried to them, and many are now Christians.
Tupe* was a chief in an island called Rarotonga. Be-
fore the missionaries went to his land he was active in the
service of vain idols; but when he heard the gospel, he
believed it, threw away his false gods, and worked hard
Proounced bTop.y.


to build the first house of the Lord that was raised where
he lived.
There were some who did not love Tupe, because he
left the worship of the idols, and they set fire to his h
when he was asleep. His house was burned down;
God watched over him, and saved him. The fire caught
the chapel, which was next door to Tupe's home, and
that was also destroyed. "O teacher," he said, "the
book of God is consumed! My house, my property,
never mind; but O my book! my book! and O the house
of God!"
The next morning he called a meeting of the chiefs.
"See," said he, the house of God in ruins! what sUl
we do?" "Build it again," they replied. "Yes,frie
that is very good; when shall we begin?" "To-mor-
row," they cheerfully added. "Teacher," he said to the
missionary, be not cast down; let them bur, we will
build; we will tire them out; but, teacher, do et leave
this wicked place." At sunrise the next morning Tape
and his friends were seen with their axes on theis
shoulders, on their way to the mountains, to cut wood
to build another chapel.
Tupe loved the house of God; but at length he was toe
ill to go there. He was visited by the missionary.


"Ah!" he said, "it is the will of God that my seat in
his house should be empty. Here I sit, and hear the
apple sing; and, 0 I wish to be there. I give myself to
^Rer. God is with me: he will not forsake me."
At another time he said, "Two portions of the word
W God afford me much delight: that in Isaiah, 'Thine
eyes shall see the King in his beauty; they shall behold
the land that is very far off;' and the words of the apostle
Paul, 'Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ,
which is far better.' I have no fear of death. Christ is
my refuge." Then, in a little time, he added, Salvation
is all of grace, through the blood of Christ." In our
Father's house we shall meet again," said his teacher.
"Yes, we shall meet in glory,--no more to part. Yes,
to be for ever with Christ: I long to be with him. Ihave
done with the world: what remains is, to set all in order,
and think of the cause of Christ."
Again the missionary went to see him, and asked,
"How is it with your soul ?" He answered, "All is
well." "Do you find your Saviour your support in
death?" "He is." "Is the path-way clear ?" "Yes;
the way is clear." "Have you any fear?" "None;
Christ is mine. I desire to see him, and be with him. I
go: youremain. Iam goingtoGod. Ihavedonewith


the world: we have been long companions; now we part.
It is painful; but the Lord's will be done." Some water
was given him to drink, when he said, "I shall soon drink
of the water of life." He said much more to encoul
his teacher, and to instruct his family, and then he d
Had it not been for missions Tupe would hav ive
without God, and died without hope. Let the account
of his life and happy death lead us to love the gospel more,
and increase our zeal in sending it to the hedthen.



I avz hesq of a good man who was very poor, a
sort of second Lazarus; and when a good lady told his
how sorryshe was that be was so poor,-" I poor!" hb
answered, "I am rich, and have all I want, for I have
golden key that unlocks my Saviour's treasury, and sup-
plies me with all I wish." The poor man's golden key
was prayer; and I am going to tell you a little about it,
that you too may have it for yourselves, and so be as rich
as he; and,
I. WHAT II ravYm?
1. It is not saying pretty verses, %r beautiful sentences
to God. Many children think, that to say a few verses
every night or morning is to pray; but they are quitl
mistaken. The Pharisees said fine things enough; 4t
God declared it was in vain they worshipped him, because
they only drew near with their lips.


2. It is not putting ourselves in some peculiar postures.
Mahommedans throw themselves down on the ground and
lie flat on their faces,
thus to pray. Ma- ny monks
for hours, and some hav%
till their knees were horny.
Numbers of peo- pie stand up
when the minister stands up, kneel
down when he kneels down, and put on all the appear-
ances of prayer. Yet all this may be done and they
not pray.
3. True prayer is something more than this. It b "an
offering up of our desires unto God, for things agreeable
to his will, in the name of Christ, with confession of our
sins, and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies." To
show it I will tell you a little story. One day a lady
went into a school in which there *ere a great many
little girls all deaf and dumb; and as she looked at them
and saw how readily they wrote their answers td diffe.
eat questions put to them, she thought within herself, "I
under what these girls would say prayer is!" and
S ng a slate she wrote upon it, f What ii prayer? and
gm'r it to one of the little girls. Now this little girl, of
oour, had never aid a prayer, for she could not spe


and she had never heard a prayer, for she could not hear;
what then could she answer? She took her pencil, and
once wrote underneath,-" Prayer is the wish of the
t." And so it is, dear reader, and nothing less. For
water you may say, however sweet the language, or
beautiful the thoughts, unless accompanied with the wish
of the heart, it is not prayer. But that wish rising up to
God is prayer, though nothing were said, and you were
walking along the crowded street. Learn these pretty
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The glowing of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh;
The falling of a tear;
The upward glancing of the eye,
When none but God is near."
1. In faith-
Believing that God will hear your cry, not because
you are needy, or because he is good, or because you are
urgent, but simply because he has promised to do so;
believing, in other words, that he will just do as he says
he will

2. Through Christ.
When the Jew wanted to come to God, he took a
lamb to the priest, who slew it, and poured out the blood
upon the ground, and kindled the fire; and then when

smoke went up, the Jew came near, ad, knowing that
God had appointed this way for him to come to him, he
lifted up his hands and heart in prayer, and sought for
mercy through the virtue of his sacrifice. So God has
put Christ, "the Lamb of God," upon the altar of the
cross. He has poured out his blood, and he has accepted
the sacrifice; and now, whoever comes to him, must seek
for his blessing only through Christ's work and merit.

3. You must pray with the resolution of Jacob, who
would not let the angel go-with the perseverance of the
woman who still cried after Jesus-and with the earnest-
Sof Peter, who cried, "Save, Lord, or I perish!"
J8lways. "Men ought always to pray, and not to
faint." In prosperity and in trials-in joy and in grief-
in sickness and in health, at home and abroad, in infancy,
in youth, and in old age-always. The moment you
cease to pray, you cease to prosper.

mR uiaBm NU9G or ucU. m PW 6L


TaX old man is blind, and, like blind Bartimes, he
wishes to come to Jesus,-but not like Bartimeus, to
have his natural eyes opened, but to have the eyes of his
soul enlightened by the Saviour's glory. But where
may he hear the good news?-where may he learn the
knowledge of Jesus ? Bartimeus sat by the wayside, and,
when he heard that it was Jesus who was passing by, he
cried, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.'4 But
the Saviour is in heaven now, and how shall the blind
negro of Berbice find him?
See, yonder is the house o God; and there Jesus in
the midst of his people, when they meet together to praise
and pray. My children, when you go up to the house of
God, do you go wishing to find Jesus? This is what the
blind negro is going for. A Creole lad is so kind a to


guide him, because he cannot find the way himself. He
has been leading him six miles beneath the hot sun, on a
very rough road, where the poor old man could not have
walked, had it not been for the help of his staff and the
supportt of his young companion. The boy can read, I
dare say, as he has his Bible in his hand, and very likely
he has been telling the old man of the compassion of the
Saviour of sinners, as they have been walking along.
May the word be received into his heart, and at eve-
ning-tide" may it "be light" with the blind negro of
Perhaps some of my young readers are blind. You
answer, "No, we have capital sight. We don't even
want spectacles." Ah! you may have very good eye-
sight, beloved young friends, and yet you may be blind
in my sense of the word. Let me ask you, Do you love
JesuJ Do you say, "No?"-then it must be Jecause
you have never seen him. There is a beautiful picture
of him drawn in his word. It is the same picture that
ministers hold up from the pulpit every Sabbath-day, and
that Sunday-school teachers hold up to the children in
their classes, and that is often held up at other times.
The most shining colours of the picture are his tenderness,
his pity, his love for you. If you were once to see the

picture, you would love him, and give yourself to him to
serve him all your days. How is it that you have ndt
seen it ? It must be that you are blind. Yes, this is the
reason. Go now, and try to find the picture. I am sure
you will find it, if you will look into his word, and with
an humble and contrite heart cry, "Lord, open my eyes,
that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. For
Jesus Christ's sake give me thy Holy Spirit, that I may
find my Saviour here!"



LrrrTL Phebe was playing one fine sunny day
With brothers and sisters, all happy and gay:
They were running, and jumping as brisk as could be,
When they came full in sight of a beautiful tree.
They shouted, and ran through the gras to its root,
There peeped through its leaflets a store of ripe fruit.
Sud Eunice: See here is a feast for us all I
Climb, brother, for plums: in our laps let them flL"
Now Phobe was youngest, and never bad known
How wrong 'tis to take things that are not our own;
But sweet were the plums, and she liked them so well,
That he gathered, and ate them as fast as they felL
She filled her small apron, and hated to run
To tell her kind mother of what she had done;
S For she knew that dhe loved her, and always was glad
To hear of the pleasures her little ones had.


Her mother was sorry, and told her 'twas sin
To take what's not ours, were it small as a pin;
That children who steal cannot taste of God's lore,
Nor go, when they die, to his mansions above.

Poor Phoebe cried sadly and long for her theft,
Then ran to take back all the plums that were left;
The owner forgave her, and said: Do not weep,
But since you have told me, the plums you may keep."

Too sorry to take them, she hastened away,
And knelt in her own little closet to pray;
She said, "Lord, I grieve that so naughty I've been;
0 bless and forgive me, and wash my heart clean!"

Poor Phobe, long after, remembered that day,
And never beside that green plum-tree would play.
The plums mamma offered she never would take,
For the thought of her sin made her tender heart ache.



THnu thousand years ago Hannah, the mother of Samuel,
who is such a bright example to the young, sang of the
Lord at the time of her son's birth-
SHe raiseth up the poor out of the dust,
And lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill,
To set them among princes."-(1 Sam. ii. 8.)

SAnd long after, the Psalmist, who saw the Lord doing
uch things still in his days, sang thus-
SHe from the dust doth raise the poor,
That very low doth lie;
And from the dunghill lifts the man
Oppressed with poverty;
That he may highly him exalt,
And with the prices et."-(Pa czii 7, 8.)

Now, dear young friends, it is the Lord's way, down
to our day, to do such things. He finds sinners in their
sins, baser, meaner, more degraded, more wretched, more
worthless than the lowest beggar; and yet it pleases the
Lord to send Jesus to such, and Jesus calls them, and
lifts them up, and sets them beside himself. Did not
Jesus do this when he said to the dying thief, To-day
thou shalt be with me in Paradise ?"
I read lately something that reminded me of this. The
people that inhabit Nepaul, a country to the north-east
of the British possessions in India, sent over some of their
number on an embassy to England.
The chief of these was riding lately through London in
his carriage, dressed with rich raiment, adorned with
jewels. The value of his dress is said to have been seven
hundred thousand dollars. When he was come near the
great church of St. Paul's, his eye fell on a poor man,
who was sweeping the crossing in the street, and who
had done so for many years, in order to get the means
of living. This man was dark in colour, and the Nepao-
lese Ambassador quickly discerned that he was a fellow-
countryman. He stopped his carriage, beckoned to the
poor Hindoo, spoke a few words to him at the carriage
steps-and lo! the poor man's eye glistened with delight,


and the next moment the broom with which he was sweep-
ing the street was flung over the church-yard railing, while
he himself sprang up into the carriage, and sat beside his
wealthy countryman.
The next time he was seen, this man, once a poor
beggar, was dressed in splendid attire, sitting beside the
Ambassador, acting as his interpreter. He had been
invited to leave his former employment and become
interpreter, and right glad was he so easily to become
honourable and rich. But now that he was so lifted up,
it was observed that he was not proud-for he liked to
take notice of his old companions as he rode that way.
Is not this like God's way of dealing with us? This
Nepaulese Ambassador showed a true brother's love to
a brother in adversity.* And such-but far beyond it,
too-was the love of Jesus, who saw us in our low estate,
and who came on very purpose to raise us up. It is his
way to pass by where we are, and to beckon to us by his
word and Spirit, and to propose to us that we leave all
and come to him. All he expects of us afterwards, in
way of requital, is, that we interpret his mind to the
strange people of this evil world, while he puts on us a
dress of his own, undertakes for us all our days, and is
not ashamed to call us his brethren. Even now, he say,

Swe "sit with him in heavenly places," (Ephes. ii. 6,) and
soon we shall "sit with him on his throne." (Rev.
iii. 21.)
One question, then, dear young friends. Have you
seen him wave his hand to you? Have you heard him
propose that you should leave all and follow him? And
have you agreed? And are there any of you who, hav-
ing got a seat by his side, and a place in his heart, are
too proud, too self-pleased, to care for those left behind T
Is there, can there be, any one sitting by his side, and
learning his mind, whose eye does not look with tender
pity upon Jews and Gentiles, at home and abroad, still
in the dust and on the dunghill? You might speak in
his ear in their behalf, and it might be that he would
send even you to bring some of them into the number of
his princes.


LrrrTm Amz was fair and rosy, with blue eyes, and
light hair, that curled over her large high forehead.
How sweet she looked to her parents! But, like those
fair, bright clouds, which we see edged with gold at sun-
set, she was soon to lose her bright eyes and her rosy
colour. Yet her parents could, even then, think of her
with joy; for, though her body turned to dust, her soul
went up to God.
When she was a little baby, she sat pn her mother's
knee at the time of family prayer, and was taught to sit
still and quiet. Her father always read the Bible and
prayed before breakfast; but one day, when he had been
very busy, he was going to breakfast without reading.
Annie, who was a little more than a year old, did not
lik them to omit reading; so she put out her hand to stop
him, and said, No, no." Her mother Wd not at So
know what she meant, and said, "What dgrou aw


Annie?" Annie then looked up at the shelf where the
Bible lay. Her father then said, Is it the Bible, Annie ?"
"Yes, yes," she said, and clapped her little hands, be-
cause her father knew what she meant. This made her
father take down the Bible and read, while the little girl
sat to listen, with her hands clasped as usual.
Before she was two years old, she came to her father
one day and said, Poor mother, very poorly!" "Yes,
Annie," said her father, and father very poorly too."
This made the dear little child burst into tears; and, as
he was lying down, she ran to fetch a cushion, and she
put it under his head. Another time she saw a boy who
had only one eye. Instead of laughing at him, as some
wicked children would do, she was very sorry for him,
and coming to her father she lisped out, "Poor boy,
poor boy !"
Another thing which made her parents love her very
much was, that she seemed to have no self-will at all.
Whatever she was told to do she did, without k cross
word, without a sullen look, without a murmur, without
a tear. She liked to walk out with her nurse; and one
day her nurse, to try her temper, put on her bon om4
tippet, and, when she was full of joy at the tho
South, took them off again, and said she must no


Dear little Annie did not fret in the least. Another day,
when she had a bunch of grapes in her hand, of which
she was very fond, her father, who wished to see what
she would do, asked her to give him one. She picked
one off, and said, "Here, father, here." He asked for
another, and she picked it off, and said, "Here, father."
Then he asked for another, and another, till she picked them
all off, without leaving one for herself, and then threw the
stalk away, without one tear, and without one complaint.
I do not doubt that her father gave her another bunch
of grapes, or something better, when he saw that she was
so kind. Another time she had several oranges given to
her, and, though she liked them much, she gave them all
away: indeed she was ever ready to part with all that
she had.
Her mother had spoken to her of the love of Jesus
Christ, and of the goodness of God, our Havenly Father;
and often she heard this little girl, when alone, singing to
herself, "Jesus, Jesus! our Father, our Father!" and if
she heard any silly nursery-rhyme sung, she would say,
"No, no; Jesus, Jesus!" She meant that she liked much
better to hear of him than of that nonsense which people
sometimes speak to little children.
If her little brother, who was more thoughtless than ds


was, did not sit still at prayer-time, she used to say to him,
as soon as the prayer was finished, "Naughty boy, naughty
boy !" Besides joining in the family-prayer, she liked to
follow her father, if ever she saw him go into his room to
pray. She then sat still by his side when he read the
Bible; and when he knelt down to pray, she knelt near
him till he rose from his knees. Often, too, she was
found on her knees by herself upstairs; and once, having
been left some hours by herself alone, through the neglect
of a person who was then taking care of her, instead of
crying and fretting at being alone, she was found upon her
knees, and seemed as happy as if she had been playing all
the while with her little brother.
When she was ill she took, without complaint, the
medicine which they gave her; and, though the blisters
made her sore, she did not fret about them. When*one
blister had to be taken off, and the place was very sore,
her mother could not bear to pain her, and asked her
father to take it off; but he also knew how much it mnst
hurt her, and he could not bear to do it. While they
were both afraid to do it, Annie saw what they felt, and,
taking hold of the edge of the blister, tore it off at ease,
and said, "There, mother!" She was then only thrm
years old. Though she was so very young, Ianmot but


think that God had given to her his grace; for, while all
she did and said was so good, she seemed, above all things,
to love the Lord Jesus Christ. When she was obliged to
keep in her room, her father used daily to come and pray
with her: but one day, being busy, he did not come at
the right time. She had been watching for him, and said,
"Mother, father has not been up to prayer." When he
came he said to her, "What do you wish for ?" Pray
-read," she answered. "What shall we read about ?"
" Jesus Christ." Three days before her death, she called
her parents up at three o'clock in the morning, calling
out, "Sing Jpus !" and when they ceased, she said,
" More, more of Jesus !" The morning before her death,
when a lady whom she much loved came in to see her,
she said to her, "Sing: sing Jesus!" The lady asked
her whether she thought she was going to him. "Yes:
quick," she answered. An hour before her death she
called for her father; and when he came, she fixed her
eyes upon him, and said, "Jesus, Jesus." He read to
her a hymn respecting the Saviour, and shortly after-
wards she died, being only three years and three months
old. When her parents pass by her grave, as they go to
church, they think that their little darling is safe and
blessed, and it comforts them in their grief.


Tax people who live in South Africa are very ill of for
water. So much is this the case, that were they evn
able to sow their crops, they would not grow because
the climate is hot and dry, and they have no mean of
watering their lands. We have little idea in this country
what it is to want water, but at Hankey, and in some
other parts of Africa where the sun has great power, the
earth retains so little moisture, that the plants soon after
they spring up, wither and die; and as the people ae
thufunable to grow corn for food, almost all of them ae
obliged to l)ve the station when the missionary has
come to teach them about Jesu Christ, in order to get
employment and food wherever they can find it. It
seems there is a river at no very great distance from the
place, but -there are rocks between, and so the waters
fow on to the sea, but cannot refrei their field. Mr.


Philip the missionary thought if they could make a pas-
sage through this rock, so as to let the water in the
direction of the fields, all the difficulty about getting the
crops to grow would be removed. So after making such
preparations as were necessary, he engaged a number of
the poor Hottentots to work away with pick-axes and
hammers to make this passage. Though they laughed
at him, and often said it was of no use, he encouraged
them to go on, and taught them what they were to do.
It was all solid rock, however, and therefore they could
not get on very fast, and then as it was seven hundred
and eighty feet through, they would, as they went on, be
a long way from the daylight and the fresh air; and as
they had never seen anything of the kind before, I dare
say they were afraid they would be some day buried
alive. Mr. Philip made some of the Hottentots begin the
passage, or tmmel as it is called, on one side of the rock,
and some on the other, and then they met in the middle,
but you may be sure they had to work 1l0 before this
took place, not less than sixteen months!
Mr. Philip gives an account of the joy that was felt by
every one when the thing was really finished. He says,
About one or two o'clock in the morning, I was startled
oat of a restless sleep by a shot fired off at my bed-room


window. I knew the signal and started up. 'TMh
tunnel is through.' I looked out and saw the messier
from the rock still running with a flaming brand towards
the village and our house, and screaming as he ran.
Some in the village had been roused by the firing, and
had seen the signal on the mountain before he arrived.
It is impossible to describe the state of the village a few
moments after. In every direction we heard shouting,
hallooing, yelling, screaming, while these serenades were
constantly broken by shots fired off from the different
houses. If you can imagine all the jackals, wolves,
baboons, men, women, and children gathered together ia
mingled war, you will have some idea of the noise.
Some thought the Caffres were ih the village, when the
first flash from a gun fell upon their half-wakened eye.
balls. The bell was ringing, fires were blazing, ad
lighted brands seemed as if they had got legs, and were
traversing the place in every direction. Bands of chil-
dren had, in 9 meantime, collected all the old iron pots
and tin scuttlWout of their houses, and were accompany-
ing this vocal concert with rough music and their shrill
screams. Our house was soon surrounded, principally
with women, who were all weeping; one (our old washer-
woman) burst into my bed-room with a loud yell, Where's


mynheer?' and coming to my bed-side, caught hold of
my hand. 'Oh! what a great work, and the Lord has
spared us to see it done!' She could not say any more,
but went sobbing out of the room. I ordered coffee for
all who came, but many did not stay to partake of it;
some going off while it was yet quite dark to the tunnel,
and others running about from one house to another almost
distracted. The next morning the whole place went to
see, and I took the opportunity of offering up a thanks-
giving prayer with those assembled."
By means of this tunnel the poor people will have
plenty of water to water their fields, and thus have food
to eat without going about to different places in search
of it. They will be 'able to remain near their kind
teacher, and thus have food for their souls as well as
their bodies; and their children will be able to attend
the school, and learn reading and other useful things.

w.. x -


Jamzs. What does this picture represent, papa.
FATmm. Tell me first what you think it means.
J. It seems to me to be the picture of a very strong
man turning some kind of machine. May be it is a mill
to grind corn, for I se a woman pouring something in at
the top like grain.
F. You are right. It isthe picture ofSamoa, while a
prisoner to the Philistines, performing his sad office of
gripding corn for his enemies. This was an occpatio
in which geMally slaves were engaged, and mostly
women, and iwas required of Samson in order to de-
grade him as much as possible. He is in the prisom-
house going through his daily toil. All is dark and
gloomy to hi for hi enemies have cruelly put out his
eyes. How s he mst el to be separated from all


his friends, and to be deprived of the cheerful light of
the sun!
J. Is this the Samson who was so famous for his
great strength ?
F. Yes, it is the same; but he is now like a common
man, for his great strength has departed from him.
J. I should think, papa, that it must vex him very
much to feel that he was a slave to the Philistines who
trembled at his very name.
F. It so doubt does. He looks back on his past
and recollects how he once slew a lion with no other
instrument than his hand; how he overthrew his enemies
with no other weapon than the jaw-bone of an ass; and
how, when the Philistines thought they had him secure in
the city of Gaza, he arose at night, and taking down the
heavy barred gates, carried them away on his shoulders.
Now the case is different. He is blind-he is a prisoner-
and daily exposed to the insults of the Philistines, while
he works like a slave.
J. What was the reason, papa- that Samson lost his
strength ?
F. His great strength was given to him by the Lord,
that he might be the deliverer of the Israelites, who wer
at that tie oppressed by the Plhstie. Samson was


very ready for this service, but he began to keep company
with certain women, that were enemies to him at heart,
while they flattered him with their lips. For this cause
God withdrew his Spirit from him, and suffered him to
be betrayed into the hands of his enemies. In an unex-
pected hour he found himself in their hands, with no more
strength than an ordinary man. They mocked him,
triumphed over him, and did everything in their power
to make him feel how miserable and deserted he was.
1. I pity poor Samson. He looks so sorrowful, as
with that long pole he turns round and round the mill,
without any hope of escape. I wish his strength would
return that he might break through the prison-gates.
F. The afflictions of Samson were of great service to
him. He had much time for reflection, and could very
easily see that he would not have been in that situation,
unless he had forsaken God, and been forsaken by him.
No doubt his sins were brought to his recollection, and
caused the tear of repentance to flow. Perhaps, while
grinding at the mill, he is saying to himself-"Alas! whem
I was applauded as the strongest man in the world, I
was uplifted with pride. I thought I deserved the
praises which men bestowed on me, and I forgot Go4
frm whom alone my strength proceeded. I idulged my

bad passions; I fell into improper company, and God, as
a punishment, has placed me in the hands of the very men
who had most reason to hate me. 0 God, I have done
evil,-I have sinned against thee, and I pray thee to
restore to me thy favour." God is very merciful to men
who sincerely repent, and he was so to Samson.
J. Did God deliver him from his enemies?
F. Yes, truly. On a certain day the Philistines had
a great festival in their great heathen temple, where many
thousand people were assembled, and in order to afford
them sport, the poor, blind Samson was brought out of
his prison, and led into the middle of the building. At
that moment he was weak and feeble, but hearing the
loud shouts of the people as they mocked their fallen foe,
he remembered that these were not only his enemies, but
the enemies of his God and of his oppressed people, and
he prayed that he might be once more endowed with
strength to bring upon them a merited punishment. His
prayer was heard. Being led to take his stand between
two huge columns which supported the roof of the tem-
ple, he felt his strength return, and putting his arms
round the columns, he pulled them with such force that
they trembled and fell. The great dome or roof being
deprived of its support, fell with a fearful crash, crushing


thousands of people to death, and Samson with them.
Thus he inflicted more evil on the wicked Philistines in
his death than he had during his whole life.
J. That must have been a dreadful scene, papa, where
so many were suddenly hurried out of life; but why did
not God save Samson?
F. He had fulflld all that God had sent him to ao-
complish, and it was God's time to take him out of lfe.
He was thus preserved from all future temptations, and it
was in mercy to his soul that God was thus pleased to
recall the life he had given him.
J. I feel so much interested in the history of Samson,
that I will immediately turn to it, and read the whole of
it again.
F. Do so, my son. You will find it very simply
written, so that a little boy will find it not only a very
true, but also an interesting story. But while you are
reading it, I wish you to remember these lessons which
it teaches:
1. That God gives to every one certain talents which
he requires to be used in his service. To Samson he gave
strength, that he might be a deliverer to his oppressed
nation; and to you he has given talents for the prop
improvement of which, you are to give an account.


2. You will learn, too, the danger of bad company. If
Samson had not kept company with wicked associates, he
would not have been deserted by God, nor have fallen
into such degradation and misery.
3. His history teaches us also, that when we sin and
fall under God's displeasure, the only safe thing we can
do is to repent and turn from our sins. Then God will
again show us mercy.
4. You will see from the fate of the Philistines, that
the triumph of the wicked is short, and that God always
has the means of punishing those who turn away from his
worship, and give their hearts to other gods.
5. I wish you also, my son, to compare Samson with
the blessed Saviour. As Samson was strong to deliver
Israel from oppression, so Christ has almighty power to
save all who look to him; and as Samson died in effect-
ing their deliverance, so Christ died on the cross to save
his people from all their cruel enemies. Christ was in-
finitely greater than. Slmson, and if you put yourself
under his care, you shall be saved from all the evils of
this life, and of that which is to come.


Ws have no wrdm with which to tel
The truths that other teach,
And scarcely oae would herken wel
Uato oar childish speh.
Yet day by day, if we hol try
To do the thip we know,
The wiset that weud pan r by,
lht wiser, bher, pow.
Or Sarior, Chrirt, a lemma tauht
Pres liim the pgrus
Fra little bird, that quiok u thouht
mwqb hrmes pu.
A wise man, sad a holy ooe,
God's bleed word should prach;
But, if by u Me wil be dome,
Some truth my childrm teah.


If, when our neighbour does us wrong,
An answer kind we make,
And bear it patiently and long,
A lesson he may take.

And sinaer thus Irom sinner earns,
Something that God has taught;
And, by a lamp that feebly burns
To holier light is brought


A urrL boy once went with his father into their apple or-
chard to shoot the mischievous jays. The man fired at them,
and the little boy saw something fall to the ground, and
ran to pick it up, expecting to find a jay. The jays,
however, were all flown, and in their place, bleeding to
death, he found. two pretty harmless mocking-bir4s.
The old man looked at them with grief for several mo-
ments, and then threw them down with the words,
ThatI what you get by being in bad company."
The little boy never forgot the words; but all through
life, when he saw people suffering from their connection
with bad men, he used to think, ". A! that what yme
get by being in bad company;" and how many evils do
you #dmk, dear children, come out of our being in bad
6 (81)

I was once visiting some friends at a distance, and
found the whole family in trouble. The poor mother
often wept, and all were cast down. What was the mat-
ter? A place was empty at the table. A son that used
to fill it was not there. Where was he? No one knew.
He had been a fine interesting lad, and was much beloved;
but he had got acquainted with bad and careless boys,
and they had seduced him to leave his home and friends,
for what purpose none could tell. Where was he? What
was he doing? None could tell; and in the silence that
was kept about him, the deep grief of his friends was
seen. He was at last found, but in a most miserable con-
dition. All that he got by being in bad company.
I once knew an intelligent young man. He was often
impressed with divine things, and in concern about his
soul. I have sat by him for hours, talking to him of his
everlasting interests, and had some hopes that he knew
and loved the Saviour. All around admired and loved
him; and we ventured to look forward to his being a
happy and a useful man. He got acquainted with some
gay young people. They led him into scenes of vanity.
They laughed at his religious scruples, and ridiculed his
fears. He soon became ashamed of his feelings, lost his
impressions, broke out into all their follies, and raa a

course of vice. So low has he now sunk, that his friends
will have nothing to do with him, but view him as a dis-
grace to their family, and a grief to their hearts. That's
what he got by being in bad company."
I have heard of a Sunday-school scholar who was once
a diligent attendant at his class, read his Bible, and seemed
to love good things. When he grew up, and left the school,
he was apprenticed among ungodly men and boys. At
first he was to be seen regularly in his place upon the
Sabbath, but by and by his wicked associates led him
away, first from ohe service, and then from another, till
his place was always empty. He now spent his Sabbaths
in strolling through the fields, or visiting places of amuse-
ment and sin. From bad he went to worse, became a
gambler, and connected himself with the vilest people.
He now grew idle and left his work. His father and mo-
ther were broken-hearted; but all their anxiety was vain.
To obtain sufficient money to pursue his course of vice,
he resorted to dishonest means; was at last found out,
tried, and transported; and as he left his native shores,
he acknowledged that this was that e got by being in
bad company.
I could have told you more. Young men and vwai n
have gone to the gallows, declaring, as they wst, that

all this was from being in bad company. Fortunes have
been lost, characters ruined, hearts broken, and prospects
withered, by being in bad company. But more, far more,
than this has happened. Could you or I lift up the cur-
tain of eternity, and look down upon the caverns of hell,
oh! how many should we see brought there by being in
bad company! Souls that once seemed to promise fair
for heaven, now blighted and destroyed!
Dear reader, take warning! Have you begun to break
the Sabbath, and to stroll the fields on that day? Are
you making friends of the wicked, and going with sinners ?
I beseech you to stop and think; and as you would not
be ruined here, and lost for ever, avoid their company!
Remember what Solomon declares, The companion of
foeos shll be destroyed;" and attend to his admonition,
"My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not."


THa following story may seem strange to some, but the
reader may be sure that it is true. It was written by the
Rev. W. Morton, missionary from India; and Mr. B. was
his relation, and a pious man. Mr. B. was a government
surveyor, and was one day measuring some land that was
covered over with what they call in India jungle, the
name given to the trees and shrubs, and reeds and gram,
which grow so thick and rank in that hot country. As
there were a great many wild beasts in this jungle, the
people who were helping Mr. B. lighted fires, discharged
guns, sent in dogs, made a loud noise, and did all they
could to frighten them away.
Not thinking that there could be any danger after all this,
Mr. B. forced his way through a part of the jungle to a
little hill, that he might view the country; but as he was


walking, all at once he felt the ground giving way under
him, and before he could recover his footing, or do any-
thing to help himself, he had sunk down among the thick
underwood, while all around him there rose up a cloud
of dust, which, for a few minutes, prevented him from
seeing where he was. But, though he could see nothing,
he heard enough to frighten him. It was the low growl
of some wild beasts, and he felt sure that he had sunk
down into their den. And so it proved; for, as soon as
the dust cleared away, he found himself in the midst of a
nest of tiger-cubs. The fact was, that the white ants, so
plentiful in India, had hollowed out the ground, and, as
the season was very dry, the thin crust which covered the
tiger's lair, broke in as soon as Mr. B. put his foot upon it.
Now you may fancy what he felt when he saw where
he had got. And what do you think he did? "Turn
pale," you will say, and tremble and scream for help as
loud as ever he could." Nothing of the kind. He saw
his danger, indeed; but though alarmed, like a good man
he prayed to God to preserve him, and like a wise man
he prepared for the worst. Knowing the habits of the
creature into whose den he had fallen, he felt quite sure
that the tigress was too near to permit hba to escape her
fury. What, then, could he do? He WId no gun, no


sword, or even a stick. His hand was his only defence.
But what could he do without a weapon? Ah!
the hand is a wonderful instrument when wisely used.
And so it proved to Mr. B.
After a few minutes' thought, he hastily took out of his
hat and pocket two or three silk pocket handkerchiefs,
and twisted them tightly round his right arm, up to the
elbow. "But what was the use of that?" you may be
saying. You will see. It proved the truth of what
Solomon says, that "wisdom is a defence." It saved
his life. For he had no sooner done this, than what
should he see but the tigress, leaping over the shrubs and
reeds of the jungle, and bounding towards him, her eyes
flashing fire, and her great jaws wide open, ready to
seize and devour him. Was not this very frightful? Do
you not think it was enough to make the boldest man cry
out, and run away ? But Mr. B. was too wise to attempt
what was impossible, and what, too, would have brought
upon him swift destruction. He, therefore, fixed his feet
firmly upon the ground, prepared for a deadly struggle
with the dreadful foe, and then stood still. In less time
than this story can be read, the tigress had come close up
to the place where Mr. B. was; and then she crouched
down upon her belly, and crawled along the ground, as


you have seen a cat do, when about to seize a bird, in
order to make sure of her prey. Dreadful sight to Mr.
B.; but he had no opportunity to think much about it,
for in another moment, with one bound and a loud roar,
she sprang right upon him.
As he expected, her great jaws were wide open; and
as quick as thought, and with a steady aim, the brave
man thrust his arm into her mouth, and seizing her tongue
with his hand, he began with all his strength to twist it
from side to side.
This prevented her from closing her mouth; but she
made terrible use of her claws, for with them she tore off
the clothes from his body and flesh from his bones. Still,
though wounded and bleeding, he kept his grasp tight,
and gave her so much pain by twisting her tongue, that
she became frightened, and with a sudden start backward,
she jerked it out of his hand, and to his great joy rushed
away from him into the jungle. Having spent a few
moments in giving thanks to that God who had thus de-
livered him out of the jaws of the tiger, as he had saved
David from the lion and the bear, Mr. B., faint with pain
and los of blood, made haste back to his party, before
the furious creature could recover from her fright, or
return to her den.


Now, learn from this story the value of knowledge, of
courage, of presence of mind, and, above all, of piety and
prayer, such as Mr. B. displayed, and to which, under
God, he owed his deliverance. Nor should you forget,
that, great as was the danger of this good man, yours is
still greater from that wicked spirit, who, like a roaring
lion, walketh about seeking whom he may devour. And
if you wonder at his escape, how should you rejoice that
you may, through Jesus Christ, be delivered from a far
more dreadful death than that which threatened him I


A HuDoo met a missionary in India, one day, fifteen
years ago, and had ten minutes' conversation with him.
It was a rule with the missionary not to leave any one
without giving him a.copy of the Scriptures or a tract
He gave the man some tracts and a copy of the New
Testament, and heard no more of him. He almost forgot
him. But the man did not forget the missionary. He
read the books, and as he read them he began to feel that
he was a sinner, and needed some better Saviour than a
dumb idol. Gradually he left off worshipping idols, and
no longer paid anything towards the support of the tem-
ple. Soon he said, I want to go and see the missionary
again." He had several grown-up children, and they
exclaimed, "No, you shall not go; for you will receive
more tracts, and disgrace us among our people." At the
same time they brought fetters, and bound him hand and


foot, so that the poor man could not stir. No Christian
was near to encourage him or to instruct him; but Christ
was near, and he prayed for the man, that his faith might
not fail. It did not fail. He still resolved that as soon
as his fetters were unloosed he would find his way to the
Christian teacher. For thirteen years he was kept in
chains! It must, indeed, have been God who helped him
to keep his resolution through that long, weary time.
Many would have said before the first year was finished,
" O, loosen my fetters, and I won't think any more about
the missionary!" But the Hindoo had read his New
Testament too well to forget it; and learned too much of
his Saviour's love to give it up.
How do you think he gained his release at last? A
wedding was about to take place in the family, and his
children were anxious that he should go to it; so they
unchained him. Hetook good care to put the tracts and
the Testament under his arm without the knowledge of
his friends. He went to the place where the marriage
ceremony was to be performed, and when they were all
busy and excited in the festival, he gave them the slip,
and made the best of his way to the missionary's house,
which was twenty-five miles off. When he arrived there
the missionary did not remember him. He looked at him

from head to foot, but could not recall him. No wonder;
it was fourteen years since he had seen him, and then only
for ten minutes. The man said to him, "I wish to be a
Christian." He replied, "What do you know about
Christianity ?" He said, Ask me some questions, and I
will tell you what I know." The missionary asked him
some-questions, and he answered them all very correctly.
Of course the missionary was very much surprised, and
he inquired of the man how he had gained his knowledge
of Jesus. He replied, "Did you not, when you passed
by my village, fourteen years ago, give me some tracts?
They taught me that Christ is the only Saviour, and I
was unhappy as long as I was a heathen. I have for
sene time left off idol worship; and I should have come
to you before now, to tell you that I believed in Jesus,
but I have been chained to my house." He then showed
the wounds which the fetters had made on his hands and
his feet. The missionary was glad, and after some
further conversation with him, in the course of a few
weeks, baptized him in the name of the Lord Jesus.


SHamL, the residence of one of my beloved relatives, is a
place beautifully situated in Lower Virginia, on the banks
of the majestic York, and consecrated to history as the
abode of Powhatan, and as the scene of the romantic ad-
venture of the captive Smith and his Indian Princess.
One bright Sabbath morning, while spending some time
with the dear friends here residing, I was tempted to
venture out, in spite of the kind warning of the gray-
haired family servant, that I could not get along for the
mud. The earth was saturated with water, a deep snow
having fallen during the week, which was now rapidly
disappearing under the rays of a warm sun. Having been
for some days confined to the house, most grateful to my
flis was the sweet fresh air. The dark and gloomy


appearance which the river always presents, when con-
trasted with new-fallen snow, had disappeared as if by
magic, and it was so spring-like, I could scarce realize
that it was January. I almost expected to hear the
sweet melody of birds, and to see flowers springing under
my feet. My heart was glad in the Lord, and I felt that
"light is sweet, and truly it is pleasant to look upon the
As we could not get to church, instead of my usual
walk on the river shore, after standing for a few minutes
to gaze on the water which was now as blue as the hea-
vens above, I found myself wending my way to old
blind Lucy's cottage, hoping to return in time for the
reading of the church-service and a sermon, which was to
take place at the usual church-hour; according to a cus-
tom which prevails in many families of Virginia, when-
ever they are prevented from going to church.
It had been many years since I had seen the old servant
whose house I was now approaching, and I almost feared
to break in upon her solitude, not knowing whether she
would recognize me. I found her taking her breakfast,
and waited in silence till she had finished the comfortable
meal. And most touching was it to see her raise her
sightless balls to heaven, with her hands clasped, to hear

her say, Thank God for all his mercies, and for my good
I was delighted to find she had not forgotten me, and
from the most high-born and delicately reared lady in
the land, I could not have met with a more courtly recep-
tion. She even felt my feet to assure herself that they
were not wet, and she could not be satisfied that I was
warm enough until my chair was drawn close to the fire.
After much conversation about the different members
of our family, many of whom she had not seen for years,
I asked her if I might read to her in God's holy word.
Her face brightened as she answered, "Thank ye kindly,
my mistress." As I read from the Psalms, Commit thy
way unto the Lord;" "trust also in him;" rest in the
Lord, and wait patiently for him," she responded in a low
tone, "I have done so, I do trust in him; Jesus is mine
and I am his. Thank God for all his mercies; his promise
is for me, I rest upon his word." I said, Amen! and laid
down my book, for it was a greater treat to hear her talk
than I had ever enjoyed before. Her mind was a thanks-
giving in itself, and was blessedness and praise to her
Heavenly Master, as she called God. I dang, "0 for a
closer walk with God," a hymn with which she had been
long familiar, and she seemed wrapped in devotion.

After a prayer, in which she joined most fervently, I
said, You are much alone here; you have much time for
prayer, Aunt Lucy." Yes, my dear, I'm always work-
ing for God and for my children. I try to do my duty
before God and man; to set an example to all that follow
after me. I shan't be here long. My dear good children!
God bless them, and keep them from all evil, both of soul
and body. They come to see me whenever they can;
and the brethren and sisters are all kind in coming to see
me, and praying for me. I love to hear them sing my
Maker's praise. God bless them! God be praised for
all his mercies." Most serious was her manner while
speaking thus; and when she was silent, with her head
bowed down, and her hands clasped on her bosom, her
lips continued to move, as if in earnest prayer.
Her usual attendant was an idiot boy, and never was
one more truly loved. He knew no other happiness than
to sit in her warm chimney-corner, and to do her bidding.
She told me she always gave him a part of whatever nice
thing was sent her from the house, that he might learn to
be honest, and not be tempted to take what did not
belong to him. And whatever he did for her I observed
she always said, Thank ye kindly, my son."
A saucepan of water was boiling on the fire, of whieh

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