Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Sandy Ross: Chapter I
 No Idler
 Love Your Little Brother
 The Faithful Messenger
 The Caliph's Dream
 Cast a Line for Yourself
 What Charlie Did
 Beautiful River
 The New England Farmer
 Boys, Do Right!
 Sandy Ross: Chapter II
 The Quicksands
 The Two Plumbers
 Home from Work on Saturday...
 The Diamond Bracelet
 The Three Sieves
 Not Knowing How to Pray
 The Third Commandment
 How the Bible Society Came to be...
 Sandy Ross: Chapter III
 My Mother's Grave
 The Reprieve
 Thunder and Lightning
 The Wasp and the Bee
 Sandy Ross: Chapter IV
 "What Is To-morrow?"
 The River
 "Coals of Fire"
 Children Lost in an Australian...
 The Great Word
 A Word with God
 Jesus Loves Me
 The Spring of Water
 An April Day
 The Neglected Warning
 Sandy Ross: Chapter V
 What Jesus Did For Me
 The Rice Field Serpent
 Little Gideon
 Sandy Ross: Chapter VI
 Little Acts of Love
 The Famished Wanderer
 Doing Good
 The Change
 Good Night and Good Morning
 Better to Work Than Beg
 Small Beginnings
 My Home Beyond the Sky
 The Little Crossing-Sweeper
 Sandy Ross: Chapter VII
 The Druid's Stone
 Begin Early
 Where We Are Always Safe
 Bible Jewels--The Emerald
 A Song About the Wind
 The Mountain Snow-Storm
 The Child's Candle
 "I Can," and "I'll Try"
 Sandy Ross: Chapter VIII
 The Lost Breastpin
 The Wrong Path
 Story of Mary Moore
 A Beautiful Legend
 When There's Love at Home
 The First Plough
 Sandy Ross: Chapter IX
 The Widow Graff; or, What Saved...
 Little Things
 Ragged Bill
 The Thirst for Gold
 A Good Son
 The Miller's Son
 I Can't Help Crying!
 The Rainbow
 Sandy Ross: Chapter X
 Susan Lane
 When We Meet Again
 The Worsted Stocking
 Mutual Assistance
 Sandy Ross: Chapter XI
 Dangerous Companions
 The Ostrich
 A Mother's Greatest Sorrow
 "The Worst of It"
 Little George's Thought of God
 The Strong Hand
 Sandy Ross: Chapter XII--Concl...
 Are You Not Afraid?
 The Mountain Pass
 Influence of Little Things
 "But a Little Child"
 The Lord Will Provide
 The Roman Servant
 Things Worth Knowing
 Back Cover

Group Title: Winning words. : a lamp of love for the young folks at home.
Title: Winning words
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00048322/00001
 Material Information
Title: Winning words a lamp of love for the young folks at home
Physical Description: iv, 188 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.), music ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Gall & Inglis ( Publisher )
Publisher: Gall & Inglis
Place of Publication: Edinburgh
Publication Date: [1879?]
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1879   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1879   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1879
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Spatial Coverage: Scotland -- Edinburgh
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Includes index.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors and contains prose and verse.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00048322
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002239862
notis - ALJ0400
oclc - 61656800

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page i
    Title Page
        Page ii
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Sandy Ross: Chapter I
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    No Idler
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Love Your Little Brother
        Page 7
    The Faithful Messenger
        Page 8
        Page 9
    The Caliph's Dream
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    Cast a Line for Yourself
        Page 13
    What Charlie Did
        Page 14
    Beautiful River
        Page 15
        Page 16
    The New England Farmer
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    Boys, Do Right!
        Page 20
    Sandy Ross: Chapter II
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The Quicksands
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    The Two Plumbers
        Page 27
    Home from Work on Saturday Night
        Page 28
    The Diamond Bracelet
        Page 29
    The Three Sieves
        Page 30
    Not Knowing How to Pray
        Page 31
    The Third Commandment
        Page 32
        Page 33
    How the Bible Society Came to be Formed
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Sandy Ross: Chapter III
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
    My Mother's Grave
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The Reprieve
        Page 42
        Page 43
    Thunder and Lightning
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    The Wasp and the Bee
        Page 48
    Sandy Ross: Chapter IV
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
    "What Is To-morrow?"
        Page 54
    The River
        Page 55
    "Coals of Fire"
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Children Lost in an Australian Wood
        Page 58
        Page 59
    The Great Word
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
    A Word with God
        Page 63
    Jesus Loves Me
        Page 64
    The Spring of Water
        Page 65
    An April Day
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
    The Neglected Warning
        Page 72
        Page 73
    Sandy Ross: Chapter V
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
    What Jesus Did For Me
        Page 77
    The Rice Field Serpent
        Page 78
    Little Gideon
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Sandy Ross: Chapter VI
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    Little Acts of Love
        Page 85
    The Famished Wanderer
        Page 86
    Doing Good
        Page 87
        Page 88
    The Change
        Page 89
        Page 90
    Good Night and Good Morning
        Page 91
    Better to Work Than Beg
        Page 92
    Small Beginnings
        Page 93
        Page 94
    My Home Beyond the Sky
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The Little Crossing-Sweeper
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
    Sandy Ross: Chapter VII
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
    The Druid's Stone
        Page 103
    Begin Early
        Page 104
    Where We Are Always Safe
        Page 105
        Page 106
    Bible Jewels--The Emerald
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
    A Song About the Wind
        Page 111
        Page 112
    The Mountain Snow-Storm
        Page 113
        Page 114
    The Child's Candle
        Page 115
    "I Can," and "I'll Try"
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    Sandy Ross: Chapter VIII
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
    The Lost Breastpin
        Page 122
    The Wrong Path
        Page 123
    Story of Mary Moore
        Page 124
        Page 125
    A Beautiful Legend
        Page 126
    When There's Love at Home
        Page 127
        Page 128
    The First Plough
        Page 129
    Sandy Ross: Chapter IX
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
    The Widow Graff; or, What Saved the Train
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
    Little Things
        Page 137
    Ragged Bill
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
    The Thirst for Gold
        Page 142
        Page 143
    A Good Son
        Page 144
    The Miller's Son
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
    I Can't Help Crying!
        Page 148
    The Rainbow
        Page 149
    Sandy Ross: Chapter X
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
    Susan Lane
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    When We Meet Again
        Page 159
        Page 160
    The Worsted Stocking
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
    Mutual Assistance
        Page 166
    Sandy Ross: Chapter XI
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
    Dangerous Companions
        Page 171
    The Ostrich
        Page 172
        Page 173
    A Mother's Greatest Sorrow
        Page 174
    "The Worst of It"
        Page 175
    Little George's Thought of God
        Page 176
    The Strong Hand
        Page 177
        Page 178
    Sandy Ross: Chapter XII--Conclusion
        Page 179
    Are You Not Afraid?
        Page 180
    The Mountain Pass
        Page 181
        Page 182
    Influence of Little Things
        Page 183
    "But a Little Child"
        Page 184
    The Lord Will Provide
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
    The Roman Servant
        Page 188
    Things Worth Knowing
        Page 188
    Back Cover
        Cover 3
        Cover 4
Full Text

The Baldwin Library


i. 4lLUW<^


S- .

wi '

"His aunt found him lying stretched on the floor busily engaged in
Irawnwio with a piece of chalk.--.o Idler


iL2 -Uamp of )EIobt





Boys, Do RIGHT, 20
GOOD SON, A, 144

POETRY, continued.
LOST, 33
SANDY ROSS, 1, 21.36,49,74,81,100,119,130,150,167,179

linni nag nrtb s.

"' I to I I

.o .t i ,,

CHAP. 1.
IT was a cold, rainy evening in November, and the
foot passengers in the busy Glasgow streets (for they
were busy even then, though my story is one of long
ago) hurried along faster than usual, as if anxious to
escape out of the fog and rain to some place of com-
fort. It had been raining all day, and now a thick
fog had settled down on the city, and it was very

cold,-so cold and raw that not all the thick coats
and soft warm furs that you could wrap round you
would keep you warm. And, alas for those who had
none, but must go shivering along in rags as best
they might.
"Want any matches, sir?" cries a small voice.
The little fellow is only ten years of age, and he has
been out all this cold day trying to earn his own
bread, and hard work he finds it, for his profits to-
day only amount to three-halfpence. Sometimes,
when it is a fine day, he can earn as much as six-
pence; but in cold wet weather nobody cares to stop
to put their hands in their pockets for a halfpenny.
He has been standing a long time at the corner of
the street, but none of the passers by care for his
matches, and very few take any notice of his oft-
repeated Want any matches, sir ? first-rate matches."
Little wonder if the poor child were to burst into
tears ; but no, wee Sandy is too well used to trouble
to cry about it. You may see that if you care by
the dim light to look into the thin, white, hungry,
dirty little face, that looks quite old, and not a bit
like what a child's face should be. Instead of cry-
ing, Sandy changed his plans, and ran along to the
coach-office in the Trongate, hoping to get some carpet
bag or parcel to carry. But he was too small for
that kind of a job, so he was again disappointed.
Most people had either nothing but what they could
carry themselves, or else they employed a strong
porter; and for the few jobs that could have suited
him, there were plenty of bigger boys. At last Sandy
grew desperate, and noticing a plainly dressed woman
carrying a lantern, a parcel, and a small box, he
trotted along at her side, begging her to let him carry
her parcel or box; he would take it anywhere, as far
as she liked, for a penny. Nothing daunted by her
refusal, he persevered, still keeping close to her, until
they had gone a considerable distance. At length,

whether moved by pity for the child, or influenced
by his perseverance, she showed signs of relenting.
" How do I know that you are honest and will not
run off with my parcel ?" said the good woman; upon
which Sandy produced a thick piece of string from
his ragged jacket, and proposed that she should tie
it to the parcel, keeping the other end in her own
hand. Without adopting this novel plan, Mrs Mac-
lean trusted her parcel to his care, and gave him her
lighted lantern. Sandy marched in front of her,
forgetting that he wAs cold and hungry and weary.
They walked along several streets before they reached
Mrs Maclean's house. Then she bid Sandy bring
the parcel in, and she would give him something to
eat. Sandy obeyed most willingly, and as he sat
eating his bread and butter while the kind woman
kindled her fire, he thought he had never been in
such a nice comfortable room before. It was but a
plain kitchen, but it was as clean as hands could
make it, and Sandy was only used to dirt and dis-
order. Such a horrid den as he called his home, I
do not suppose any of my readers ever entered.
Indeed, I am sure that they could not have borne to
stay five minutes in the place, but would have be-
come sick with the close air and bad smells.
Mrs Maclean learned by questioning the boy that
his father was dead, and his mother was a drunken
woman, who took but little care of him, sending him
out to the streets to beg or sell his matches, and
beating him .when he did not bring home enough
money to please her.
Mrs Maclean's heart filled as she looked at the
boy and thought of her own child, just about the
size of this one, and the same name too-Sandy.
But he was not with her now; it was long since that
she had stood beside his grave in the crowded city
churchyard, and said, "I shall go to him, but he
shall not return to me." Yes, it was long ago, nearly

twenty years, and yet to-night her loss seemed quite
fresh, and she felt as if it was only yesterday that
her boy and her husband were with her, and now
she was all alone. She did not indulge these sad
thoughts, however, but asked herself if she could do
nothing for this poor child, who she found was clever
beyond his years, and well versed in the ways of the
streets, but fearfully ignorant of anything like religion.
Mrs Maclean kept a school, and it occurred to her
that if she could get this ragged little fellow to attend
her night-school, she might be able to do him some
good. When this was proposed to him, he grinned
with delight, for he was shrewd enough to know that
he could get on much better with a knowledge of
reading and writing; and Sandy never forgot that
he had his own bread to earn in the world. But
here a difficulty presented itself-he had no clothes,
nothing but these rags; and as he looked down at
himself, he felt ashamed for the first time in his life.
"We '11 soon mend that," said Mrs Maclean, and
unlocking a drawer, she took out a jacket and pair of
trousers. "Will these do?" said she.
Sandy shook his head; no, he couldn't wear them;
his mother would pawn them for whisky.
However, "where there is a will there is a way;"
so it was arranged that Sandy should come the next
evening to school with clean face and hands (he
could manage that at a pump), and he was to change
his clothes before going home.
When Mrs Maclean was left alone, she sat some
little time looking into the fire, thinking of bygone
times. The visit which she had just paid to some of
her relations at Paisley perhaps recalled the past,
but chiefly her meeting with this poor friendless
child had moved her heart. She replaced the worn
garments in the drawer with a sigh, saying, Ah,
well, he that giveth to the poor lendeth unto the
Lord." F. W. I


IT is now more than a hundred years since, that a
family party were gathered round the tea-table,-
the tea, however, being only for the elders of the
party, for at that time it was far too costly an article
for children to partake of. But one of the boys was
enjoying himself in a way of his own, lifting the
lid of a kettle and watching the steam as it collected
in drops of water on the tea-cup, or the tea-spoon
which he held at the spout.
At last his aunt lost patience to see him trifling
as she thought.
James," she cried, take your book, or do
something to make yourself useful. I never saw
such an idle boy in my life. In this whole half-
hour you have done nothing but sit there staring at
that kettle, lifting the lid and putting it down
again. Why, have you never seen a kettle before 2"
I do not know what answer the boy made, but I
am sure his aunt would have been greatly astonished
if she had been told that this nephew of hers, James
Watt, would one day be a great man-one of the
greatest menof his day, and that thetown ofGreenock,
where he lived, would long boast of being the birth-
place of the celebrated James Watt, the improver,
if not the inventor, of the steam-engine. Some of
you have seen the monument to this great man in
Westminster Abbey, which, as the inscription on it
tells, was erected by the King, his Ministers, and
many of the Nobles and Commoners of the Realm."
You will have a better idea than his aunt, Mrs
Muirhead, could have of what it was that made the
boy stare at the tea-kettle, the steam, and the drops
of water. He was even then making a discovery
which he afterwards put to use in his steam-engine.
On another occasion, a gentleman coming in with

his aunt found him lying stretched on the floor
busily engaged in drawing with a piece of chalk on
the hearthstone.
Mr Watt," said the visitor, I wonder you
don't send that boy to a public school, and not allow
him to trifle his time away at home."
"You had better see what he is doing before you
condemn him," replied the father. He was then
trying to work out a problem in geometry, and was
busy with his compasses, measuring and drawing
lines and circles.
Mr Watt had a very good idea of his son's
talents, and when he was quite young gave him a
set of tools, which he soon learned to make good use
of. He would take to pieces, and put together
again, any new toys that came into his way, and
many a new one did he make for his young com-
panions. When he was a little older he astonished
them by making an electrical machine. Never was
Mrs Muirhead more mistaken than when she called
James Watt an idle boy. People require not only to
see what a person is doing, but to know why he
does it, before they can judge of whether he is well
employed or not.
There was once a boy named Henry Potter, who
was employed on one of Newcomen's steam-engines.
This machine would be thought very little of in
these days, but before James Watt's discoveries it
was considered a very valuable invention. It
required a person to be constantly opening and
shutting two different stop-cocks. This was the duty
of Henry Potter, and it needed all the attention he
could give to open and shut them at the right time.
One day Henry heard the shouts of his companions
at their play, and was all impatience to join them, but
this of course he could not do, for he dared not
leave the engine for half a minute. But you know
necessity is the mother of invention, and he

bethought himself of a plan by which he could
make the engine work itself. He fastened a number
of cords to the stop-cocks, some to the one end of
the handle and some to the other, and these he
fastened to the beam of the engine, in such a way
that in ascending it pulled one set of cords, and in
descending the other.
Henry's delight was great when lie saw that his
plan succeeded admirably. For a few minutes he
watched the engine working by itself, and then
bounded off to his companions.
Very soon his master came up, and finding Henry
Potter at play, cried, You lazy fellow! what do
you mean by playing there, andleaving my valuable
engine to go to ruin?" Too angry to listen to
Henry's attempted explanation, he ran off to the
engine, expecting to find I know not what destruc-
tion. But what was his astonishment, on reaching
the engine, to find it steadily working itself,-the
stop-cocks opening and shutting with the greatest
regularity I do not know how Henry Potter was
afterwards employed, but he was never again set to
open and shut stop-cocks; his invention was found
to answer so well that from this time the engine
was left to do its own work. After a little while,
the engineers used iron rods instead of cords.
Now, I think you will scarcely call Henry Potter
an idle boy, because he used his mind as well as his
hands. F. W. I.

I HAD a little friend,
And every day he crept
In sadness to his brother's tomb,
And laid him down and wept.

And when I asked him why
He mourned so long and sore,
He answered through his tears, "Because
I did not love him more.
Sometimes I was not kind,
Or cross, or coldly spake,"
And then he turned away, and sobbed
As though his heart would break.
Brothers and sisters are a gift
Of mercy from the skies,
And may I always think of this
Whene'er they meet my eyes !

I HAVE a sad story to tell, but it is a true one ; and
for these two reasons, I hope it will be a serious and
a useful lesson to my little readers.
Not many years ago, in the town of B-- an
accident happened, by which two persons were killed
on the spot; two or three more lingered for weeks,
till death put an end to their ,it!. t,-i; ; and several
others (if even they live for years), will carry the
effects of their injuries to the grave. Now, you will
be shocked to hear that all this mischief was caused
by the thoughtlessness of one little boy; or, it may
be more properly said, that in all human probability,
this sad accident would never have happened if that
boy had proved a fitthful messenger.
I will now tell you how it occurred. There is a
large public building in the middle of the town of
--- the great entrance to which is under an arch-
way, through a pair of huge heavy iron gates. It
was discovered that the hinges of these gates were
loose and unsafe. The person whose 'duty it was to
look after such things immediately wrote to an iron-

monger, to order him to do the necessary repairs.
The note was sent by a boy, and a message was sent
with it, that "the order was to be attended to in-
7'' .;" but this was not stated in the writing.
[ !. I.y; delivered the note, but forgot the message.
The ironmonger was engaged about some other
work, which he thought of more consequence, and
the gates were left in their dangerous state.
Soon after a sudden storm of rain and wind came,
and several persons took shelter under the archway,
close to the fatal gates. All at once a blast of wind
rushed by, and brought them down with a fearful
crash upon the people beneath, and the terrible mis-
chief happened that has already been related.
I cannot say whether the boy ever knew of the
sorrow and suffering he had heedlessly caused; it is
to be hoped he did, for no doubt he would remember
it for good, as long as he lived. But, be that as it
may, I write this little account of the sad scene, for
the benefit of those who may not think as seriously
as they ought to do oftelivering a message faithifull ;
that is, truly-word for word, as they receive it.
A message is a trust, as important as anything
else that might be given us to take care of; and it
should be delivered to those for whom it is intended
as carefully and conscientiously as a parcel containing
goods, nothing being taken away from it. Property
is often endangered and lost through a careless mes-
senger. Wo have here seen an instance where life
was sacrificed by the same means.
Then, my dear little friends, learn by heart the
following few words; remember them when needful,
and through life call them to your aid: "A faithful
messenger refresheth the soul of his master" (Prov.
xxv. 13); but, "A wicked messenger falleth into
mischief" (Prov. xiii. 17). M. A.
-( ... Friend.


I -I I I

" I DO wish I could see a miracle," says many a one,
who, really without knowing it, has seen many
miracles. When the great Caliph of Bagdad had
completed his palace, he went with his wisest
counsellor to inspect his gardens. These were laid
out in Oriental grandeur. There were tall forest
trees, from the great cedar to the hyssop; the air

was filled with the perfume of orange blossoms;
there were flowers of every hue, wild and tame
birds, fountains jetting up water, running brooks
among rocks that had been brought hundreds of
miles, thickets whence issued the roar of lions, and
parks filled with deer. Not a tree, or shrub, or
flower, that could live in that climate, that was not
found there. The garden had been years in coming
to perfection, and embraced miles-nobody knew
how many-in extent. The parrot and monkey
talked and played in the trees, the peacock and
pheasant trod upon the velvet lawn.
"All this is very beautiful, Meershi," said the
Caliph. Nature and art combined have made
this a beautiful spot. I can walk or ride, or swing
or swim here. And I marvel at what has been done."
"Who worketh like Him? God's finger hath
touched every flower, and everything which thou
seest. Surely thou wilt never again hint the thought
that all these are the work of chance, when even the
laying out of these grounds shows somebody must
have done it."
Meershi, dost thou believe in miracles ?"
Most assuredly I do."
Show me a real miracle, and I will never doubt
"Sit down, then, 0 Light of the East-sit down
in this little arbour, surrounded by the nodding
poppies, out of which they extract the gum which
maketh thee dream of Paradise. There! Now,
rest thy head on thy left hand. Now, look steadily
at that circle which I draw with my staff on the
The Caliph looked intently on the circle, while
Meershi muttered something to the air, and waved
his cane towards the four parts of heaven. Instantly
the Caliph saw the earth begin to rise up in the
very centre of the circle. In a single minute there

came up a little shoot, and then it expanded into a
large, beautiful apple tree, such as grow only at the
foot of the mountains of Himalaya. In another
minute the tree hung with golden fruit, fair as the
fruit which grew on the limbs of the Gihon, in the
garden of the Lord. In another instant the fruit
was scattered and went rolling around, and there
arose a mighty orchard, containing ten thousand
trees, and every tree bearing different fruit. The
Caliph gazed at the scene with wonder and delight.
He put forth his hand and ate the new created
fruit. It was delicious as the figs which Adam
gathered on the day that he first supped with Eve.
"A miracle! a miracle Meershi, I will never
doubt again. That is a miracle, indeed."
Will the Light of the East look at his watch,
and see how long it has taken to work the miracle ?"
The Caliph reached to his bosom for his jewelled
watch, and drew out a rusty, decayed thing. He
looked at the arbour in which he sat down, and found
it was all decayed and gone. He looked at what
was a little nursery, and saw them to be great trees !
He could hardly recognize anything.
Meershi, what means this ? Am I not awake ? I
surely have been asleep. How long have I slept V"
Eighty-five years, Light of the East."
Eighty-five years Then it was no miracle
after all That first apple tree must have grown
"up, and borne fruit, and created the great orchard in
the natural way. That was mere nature, after all !
Ha Meershi, by the beard of the prophet, thou
smiles at thy cunning."
Not so, great Caliph. But I wanted to show
thee that every tree that sprouts, and grows, and
brings forth its fruit, is a miracle. What is the
difference whether the great One raise a tree and an
orchard in five minutes, or in i!I .i i ..? Is not the
power and the skill the same ? What is it to Him,

' before whom a thousand years are but as one day,
and one day as a thousand years,' how much or how
little time He takes ? Thou talkest about a miracle
if it be done in a shorter time than thou art accus-
tomed to see it done. But know, 0 man, that it is
the same power working around us every moment;
and every flower that opens would be a miracle to
us if we could see the hidden power working therein.
If God should take three hundred and sixty-five
days now to make one day, we should call it a miracle.
Is it any less so that He makes a day every twenty-
four hours ?"
Meershi, thou art wise and talkest well; but I
am very hungry after my long nap."

A YOUNG man stood listlessly watching some
anglers on a bridge. He was poor and dejected.
At last, approaching a basket well filled with whole-
some-looking fish, he sighed, If, now, I had these,
I would be happy. I could sell them at a fair
price, and buy me food and lodgings."
I will give you just as many and just as good
fish," said the owner, who chanced to overhear his
words, if you will do me a trifling favour."
And what's that ?" asked the other eagerly.
Only to tend this line till I come back. I
wish to go on a short errand."
The proposal was gladly accepted. The old
fisherman was gone so long, that the young man
began to be impatient. Meanwhile, however, the
hungry fish snapped greedily at the baited hook,
and the young man lost his depression in the excite-
ment of pulling them in; and, when the owner of
the line returned, he had caught a large number.
Counting out from them as many as were in the

basket, and presenting them to the young man, the
old fisherman said,-
I fulfil my promise from the fish you have
caught, to teach you, that whenever you see others
earning what you need, to waste no time in fruitless
wishing, but to cast a line for yourself."

TURNING into a certain street, I saw a company of
boys playing very earnestly, and evidently enjoying
themselves greatly. One I noticed in particular,
who seemed to be the leader of their sports, and
just as I came up with them, he was proposing a
new game, and giving instructions in regard to it.
His whole heart seemed to be in the thing.
At this moment a window was thrown open in
the house I was passing, and a sweet, gentle voice
Charlie, your father wants you."
The window at once closed, and that mother (as I
took her to be) immediately withdrew, without ever
stopping to see whether Charlie heard.
The boy was so busy that I doubted if that quiet
voice would ever reach his ear. But it seemed she
knew better than I. The words hardly escaped her
lips when everything was dropped, the boys left at
play, and Charlie was within the doors, where, of
course, I could not follow him.
A fine fellow that," thought I. "He will make
his mark in the world. If a man would govern
others, he must learn to obey; and surely Charlie
has learned to obey."
Yes, that is the way. Prompt, cheerful obedience
is what you are to render parents and teachers. Do
not wait to be spoken to the second time, but drop
all, and run at the first call.



Words and Music by Rev. R. LowRY.

1. Shall we gath- er at the riv er, Where bright an-gel

feet have trod; With its crys tal tide for ev er


Flow-ing by the throne of God? Yes, we'll

gath er at the iv er Te beau ti- ful.

1zz ~ 0


._______ _L__._ _. __ ... _J __N

the beau ti ful rir er-G-ath I with the saints at

S tl riv -- r That flows by ihe throne of God.

!-A" -'-,_-t_ |<-ja-7_+ ----_-p

2. On the margin of the river,
".ViTd :,p its silver spray,
We .11 .:1 and worship ever.
All the happy, golden day.--Lo.

3. Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. --Co.

4. At the I,.;,. of the river,
Mirror. .I i i... Saviour's face,
Saints whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace.--Co,

5. Soon we'll reach the silver river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease :
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace.-Cho.



AMosG the hills of New Hampshire there was a
noble farm, whose thriving cornfields were the pride
of the neighbourhood. The farmer was a rich
man, and his fine barns, granaries, wood-piles, and
well-kept fences showed that he looked well to his
business : he was rich also in a warm heart; for,
having no children of his own, he and his excellent
wife took one little motherless child after another to
their hearts and home, until six adopted children sat

at their table and filled their house with gladness.
Nor did their riches end here. He had a treasure
laid up in heaven. The farmer was rich in faith,
and his pious example shown with a beautiful light
all around. The little church not far off loved and
honoured him, and made him one of its officers. A
useful and happy life was his.
Time went by with its changes, and some it
brought to the farmer. His children one by one
married and settled. At last his wife died, the com-
panion of forty years, and he was left alone. Old
age had crept on, and he began to need the affectionate
care which, in other days, he had so freely given to
others. A son invited him to make his house his
home; and friends advised him to go and spend
the rest of his days in that ease and comfort which
he could so well afford. It was hard to sell the
old place;" but he could do what seemed best, since,
loving it as he did, he looked forward to that sweeter
rest which remains for the people of God beyond the
grave. It was a sorrowful day to the little church
when the good man took his leave, and his seat was
empty in the pew.
In a few years the son failed in business, and the
failure swept away the largest half of the b6d man's
property. Other losses followed in its wake, and
like Job, he was well-nigh stripped of everything.
Scarcely enough was left for his daily bread. Un-
willing to be a burden, he yearned for his early home,
and only wished he might end his days there. Back
he travelled to his native village. He knocked at
the old farm gate, and begged for lodgings beneath,
the old farm roof. The young farmer bade him wel-
come. A bargain was struck, and the old man be-
came a hired servant where he was once the master.
But no complaint of a hard lot" ever fell from his
lips. A sweet content filled his soul. Morning,
midday, and evening, snatches of prayer and praise

floated from his bedroom into the kitchen and over
the green, catching the ears of the young farmer and
his wife, who often stopped and hearkened to the
But what could the old man do He could no
longer swing the axe, handle the hoe, or turn the
furrow as he once did. The hard, rough work of life
must be done by stronger hands than his. Ah, there
was work to be done, precious work that he could
do. There were little children to be watdced and
tended, and a burdened mother to relieve. And
before many months it was plain how their little
hands and hearts were stretched lovingly towards
him, and even baby chirped more cheerily in his
arms. It was a touching sight to see him on the log
under the old beech tree, one in his bosom, another
hugging his knees, a third kneeling at his side,
listening with eager face to "little Moses hid in the
bulrushes," or Samuel hearkening to God," or the
" mocking children ate up by bears," or that sweet
story of old," the infant Jesus in the manger, their
own blessed Saviour. The old man was never tired
of these labours of love. And do you think the
father and mother could help hearing what pleased
their children so? No, no. His good words and
simple godly talk sunk into their hearts as well as
the children's, like small seeds into the bosom of the
Oh," sighed the young mother in her innermost
heart, I want to be like that good man."
"That's the religion for me," said the strong farmer,
thinking of it over his plough. Then they asked
him to come and pray with them. And the good
deacon fetched out his old family Bible, and set up
the family altar once more, as it used to be under the
old roof in his day.
All this pleased God, and He sent his Holy Spirit
down into the little household ; Jesus was there

and the young farmer and his wife sought Jesus, and
found Him; and by-and-by they united with the
little church hard by. Then they called the old man
" father," and the little ones called him dear grand-
father," and he had the best seat in the chimney
corner, and nothing was too good for him to have.
Because, you observe, when hard times" came
to him, as they-have come to hundreds and thousands
in our land this year, he did not grumble and com-
plain, or lose faith and got discouraged; he just did
what David tells us to do, Trust in the Lord and
do good, so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily
thou shalt be fed." And didn't he find it true?
Oh, happy house, whose little ones are given
Early to Thee, in faith and prayer-
To Thee their Friend, who from the heights of heaven
Guard'st them with more than mother's care.
Oh, happy house, where little voices
Their glad hosannas lowly raise,
And childhood's lisping tongue rejoices
To bring new songs of love and praise.
-Child's Paper.

NEVER mind if you are laughed at when you do
what is right. The time will come when those who
do wrong will be the sufferers. Thirty years ago, a
little boy who was on his way to Sunday school was
tempted by some boys to have a ramble in the woods
on the Lord's day. He firmly replied, No." That
boy is now a man, and has cause to thank God for
"earthly blessings and prosperity. God has blessed
him. The Sabbath-breaking boys became bad men,
a sorrow to their parents and friends, and a disgrace
to their country. The Bible says, "It shall be well
with the righteous." Boys, do right !


How very slight a thing will sometimes change a
whole life! Sandy's visit to Mrs Maclean was the
most fortunate thing that ever happened to him, for
it was the beginning of quite a new kind of life for
him. Perhaps you will think that the good woman
adopted him as her son, fed, and clothed him, and
so changed him from the wild, ragged, dirty street
wanderer that he was, into a well-behaved, respect-
able character. No, nothing of that sort happened;
for Mrs IM 1. i! was but poor herself. What I
mean is, that Sandy began to long to be something
better than he was, and that was like the first breath
of a new life. Mrs Maclean's night-school was at-
tended by boys and girls of different ages, but all
employed in some kind of work during the day, and

very much above the class of beggars and other street
wanderers among whom Sandy had always lived, and
lie soon got better employment than selling matches.
Mrs Maclean, and several of her neighbours, found
him very handy in going errands; and before a year
was out, he was employed as regular message boy in
a grocer's shop. This was indeed a day of triumph
for him. During that year he had made wonderful
progress in learning. When he first went to Mrs
Maclean's school, she had been greatly shocked at
the depth of his ignorance; lie had never so much
as heard of Jesus Christ; and when he was asked if
he knew who was the first man, he replied, "William
Wallace !" He did not long remain ignorant, how-
ever; he learned to read very quickly, and showed
a great thirst for all kinds of knowledge. Books
were not so cheap then as they are now, and, of
course, not so plentiful. But, to use one of Sandy's
favourite sayings in after life, "Where there is a will
there is a way," and one of his ways of getting books
to read was loitering about booksellers' shop windows
and old book-stalls. Some of the books were spread
open; and though you, with your many books, may
think it would not be very interesting to read just
two pages of a book, and then stop because you could
not turn over the leaf, it was a great treat to poor
Sandy. True, it was rather tantalising to have to
stop in the middle of an exciting adventure, and
Sandy would fain have peeped over the page if he
could; but he contented himself with thinking, that
when you cannot get the whole a little bit is better
than none. You may suppose this style of reading
would not give him a very thorough knowledge of
anything, and there was generally a curious mixture
on the book-stall; but Sandy managed to pick up a
good many things, and got on better than you would
have thought.
A little before the time that he was taken into

the grocer's shop, his mother died, and he then went
to live with Mrs Maclean. This was indeed a happy
change to him on many accounts. Mrs Maclean was
a warm-hearted Christian, and strove earnestly not
only to teach Sandy the truths of religion, but to
train him to live according to its rules. No wonder
that the boy loved her, and regarded her almost as
an angel of light, for it was she who had shown him
heaven, and God, and Jesus Christ. It was she who
had rescued him from a life of misery and degradation.
Sandy soon became a great reader, and Mrs Mac-
lean noticed that his favourite books were some old
volumes of travels and voyages which had belonged
to her husband, who was a sailor. His curiosity
about foreign countries was very great, and many a
question did he ask which the good woman could
not answer. All his spare time was spent either in
reading these books, or in hanging about the wharves
and quays, watching the boats, talking with the
sailors, and learning all he could about boats and
When Sandy was twelve years old, Mrs Maclean
had a visit from her brother-in-law, who was mate of
a ship which had just returned from India and
China. With what eagerness the boy listened to
Donald Maclean's wonderful stories of burning moun-
tains, tigers, elephants, and all the marvels he had
seen in foreign parts, may well be imagined, and
Sandy could no longer conceal his strong desire to
go to sea. He had wished it for some time, and now
Donald stood his friend, and promised to see if he
could find a berth for him in his own ship. This
was soon accomplished, and so it was arranged that
Sandy should sail in the "Hawk" on her next
voyage. Mrs Maclean felt this to be a great trial,
for she had come to have almost a mother's feeling
for Sandy, and she knew well how many are the
temptations which meet a boy on board ship. But

she knew that her brother-in-law would keep a
friendly eye on the boy, and she hoped that the
teaching she had given him would not be forgotten
by him, but that the good seed which had been sown
in his heart would spring up and bring forth fruit.
Sandy loved his Bible, and his interest in religious
truth had been growing of late; still he was but a
boy of twelve, and how could he be expected to have
fixed religious principles ? So she was anxious about
him, and this led her to pray more fervently for him,
and to speak more earnestly to him, urging him to
make choice of Christ for his Saviour at once, before
going out to meet the world's temptations.
F. W. I.

EVERY one knows that in certain shores there are
parts of the sands which, from their being so spongy
and wet, are called quicksands or quakesands. Any
one who has set his foot upon them is in danger of
being sucked in. The following adventure occurred
to some gentlemen in Normandy:-
They had been visiting St Michael's Mount, and
had remained rather late at the little inn ere they
thought of returning to the mainland. On getting
into the street, says the narrator, we found it very
dark, owing to a thick fog; but the guide assured
them if they kept close to him there was nothing to
fear. I asked our guide if he was quite sure he was
on the right road, and he said we were; but in a
little while we had to wade through a rill of water
ankle deep, and it struck me the sand was different
in colour from what we had seen before. In a few
minutes the guide stopped, and asked if we had seen
a bush. We said, No; and I said, I am certain the
fellow has lost his way." This he was obliged to
confess, but declared, with a face as white as a sheet,
that he should find the track in a minute.

One of our number took out some matches, and
tried to light them, but as most, of them were bad,
he threw a good many away before he could strike a
light. We then moved slowly on for about ten
minutes, the guide a yard before us, when suddenly
I saw him slowly sinking before me. He had stepped
into a quicksand! Without thinking, I rushed for-
ward, seized him by the collar, and threw him on his
back a yard behind me. At the same moment I felt
as if something gave a crack below my feet, and I
felt myself slowly going down. I own my heart
leaped into my mouth. Something seemed to suck
or drag me down, leaving me not the slightest power
to assist myself. I did my best to raise one leg, but
to no purpose; the other only went deeper and faster
down. In a few seconds I was buried half way up
my thighs. I shouted for help. In a moment I
felt my friend's iron grasp on my collar, and with
two tremendous tugs I felt myself rolling on the
sand. The collar of my coat was torn, and the red
cloth inserted for stiffening was hanging out. This
I pulled off and threw on the sand.
Come back, come back," cried my friend; "the
ground is breaking under us." We obeyed his call
in all haste, for we could see the sand cracking and
flowing toward the spot where we had so nearly
sunk; and we retreated to a spot which was quite
firm. Our guide was so terrified, we could scarcely
learn from him where he thought we were; but after
much questioning, he said we should keep to our left
away from the river, where there was much danger;
so tying our handkerchiefs together, and holding
them as a rope in our hands, we once more began to
move on, the fog being so dense we could not see
two yards before us.
After walking a quarter of an hour, in which we
had been obliged to cross sundry strings of water,
which took us up to the mid-leg, we picked up some-

thing on the sand, when, to our horror, it was the
lining of my collar which I had thrown away a few
minutes before The fact was only too plain; we
had been walking in a circle, and were within a yard
or two of the quicksands into which we had so nearly
gone down Our first movement was to rush from the
place where we stood, and then our guide threw him-
self on the sand and wrung his hands. Not a word
was spoken at first by the others. At last my friend
cried, Let us be moving; there is no good in stand-
ing still to be drowned; so at it again."
He took a bundle of old letters out of his pocket,
which he began to tear into pieces. "Dropping a
bit of this as we walk along," he said, "may help to
guide our eyes and keep us straight, if we spread out
as far as we can." He asked me to go last, and call
to him whenever he was swerving from a straight
line. We thought we could see faint traces of our
former footsteps, so taking these as our guide, by
help of the morsels of paper, we kept in as straight
a line as we could. After some time, my friend, who
was in the front, shouted, "All right;" we all sprung
forward, and saw him holding in his hand one of the
matches he had thrown away! So far, then, we had
retraced our steps correctly.
After some consultation with the guide, we again
moved on, still dropping the little bits of paper,
when a fresh shout struck my ear-this time from
the guide. I rushed forward; they were all stand-
ing by a sheet of water. We stooped down and
tasted it-it was salt! One of our companions said
solemnly, "The Lord have mercy on us," and just
then we heard the hollow sound of the advancing
tide. The wave the wave !" shouted the guide;
"we are drowned !"
At this moment a strong breath of air struck upon
our cheeks. In an instant the fog seemed to be
lifted up, and we saw within ten yards of us a broken

bush firmly planted in the sand; whilst in the water
not fifty yards from us was another, of which the
top was visible. The guide, on seeing them, cried,
"Saved saved !" and in another second was wading
as fast as he could toward the more distant bush.
We followed, passed the bush, and in two minutes
more were on dry sand, the marks of wheels, horses
and men's feet being imprinted on it. A few yards
more and we were on the road, and safe 1 0 give
thanks unto the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy
endureth for ever."

GOD has work for all His people to do. I can't do
your work. You can't do mine. Each must do his
own. The following story will illustrate this :-
Two plumbers were at work on a nice job, which
needed all their skill. A fine tool, without which
they could not work, slid down a pipe. Their hands
were too large to get it up again. The house was
full of grown-people, but no help could they give:
their hands were as large as the plumbers' were. Two
children came by. They had often before gone to see
the men at work, and the men knew they would
help them if they could. The first put her hand
down the pipe, but it felt cold, and the tool at the
bottom was sharp, so she drew it back. The next
was more brave; she thrust her arm right down,
gave one strong pull, and out came the tool! So the
men worked on.
Now there are things to be done for the Lord,
which He pleases only to do with the small hands of
His little willing children. Will you ask Him, though
you are small in His sight and in others' sight, to use
you in His work ? Ask Him how He would have
you help in the glorious work of preaching the gos-
pel to the heathen. God has work for you.
Happy are you if you know His will, and do it.


THE workshop bell rings while the sun is high,
And frees its workers from their toil and care,
For rambles in the fields, or rest at home,
And preparation for the day of prayer.
The weary father treads his homeward way,
Smiling to think upon his children's mirth,
And all the tender love and humble faith
That bless and dignify his lowly hearth.

There is a welcome at his very door
From the sweet babe that scarce can lisp his name,
The laughing boys, the daughter, proud to share
The household duties of the thrifty dame.
What of the long, long hours of daily toil,
Commencing almost e'er the dawn is bright ?
The simple food, the raiment coarse and worn 1
He wins the recompense for all to-night.

A SAILOR boy, who had just escaped shipwreck in a
storm at sea, was passing along the streets of the
city, when a lady, very richly dressed, rode by in her
carriage. Soon after she had passed, the boy
noticed something glitter on the pavement, and he
ran and picked it up, and brought it to one of the
men on board the ship, saying, See, here's a pretty
"You are a lucky fellow Where did you find
it ?"
A lady dropped it as she was getting out of her
Why, it's a diamond bracelet! It'll make your
fortune. Shall I take care of it for you ?"
"It's not mine," said William ; "I must not keep
"Why, the lady will never know who has got it,"
said the man; it'll be the making of you."
No," said Will, thinking a moment, it 's not
mine : I won't keep it."
Then you are a flat; you might get ever so
much money for it when we get home."
But suppose we should have another storm ?"
"Why, then, I suppose we shouldn't feel quite
comfortable. Do as you like; perhaps you are

The sailor boy ran off. He found the owner of
the bracelet; and handing it to her, explained how
he came by it. The lady was pleased at his honesty.
Said she, to a friend standing by, He is a fine fel-
low; something must be done for him," and she
gave him the handsome reward of one hundred and
fifty dollars for his honesty. This the captain of
the ship advised him to lay out in furs, on which,
when they reached home, he realized twice as much
as they cost.
The owners of the ship, when they heard of his
honesty and integrity, would take nothing for the
freight of his furs, and made him mate of the vessel.

" OH, mother!" cried little Blanche Philpott, I
heard such a tale about Edith Howard. I did not
think she could have been so naughty. One day-"
My dear," interrupted Mrs Philpott, before you
continue, we will see if your story will pass the three
"What does that mean, mother ?" said Blanche.
I will, explain it, dear. In the first place, is it
true ?"
I suppose so. I heard it from Miss Parry, who
said a friend of M]iss White's told her the story; and
Miss White is a great friend of Edith's."
And does she show her friendship by telling
tales of her? In the next place, though you cannot
prove it is true, is it kind ?"
I did not mean to be unkind, mother; but I am
afraid I was. I should not like Edith to speak of me
as I have spoken of her."
And is it necessary?"
No, of course not; there was no need for me to
mention it at all."

"Then, dear Blanche, pray that your tongue may
be governed, and that you may not indulge in evil
speaking; and strive more and more to imitate the
meekness of your Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.'

A CLERGYMAN called at one of our hospitals one
morning, and, as was his custom, he stood in the
doorway, and prayed for the sufferers within.
When he had finished, he saw a thin hand and arm
in the far corner waving and beckoning him to
come there.
So he went along, and found a poor boy lying on
a cot, very sick indeed. He spoke to him very ten-
derly, and asked him if he was a Christian.
"No," said the lad; "I am not a Christian."
"Can you read the Bible "
"No; I can't read the Bible. Nobody ever
reached me to read."
"Can you pray, my poor boy ?"
Nobody ever reached me to pray," said he, with
great emotion.
I will teach you a prayer," said the minister,
and he repeated for him the Lord's Prayer.
Now," said he, I want you to say that all over
again." So the minister repeated it again.
Oh, dear !" he said, as he lay back with a de-
spairing sigh, "I never can remember all that."
"I will teach you a little prayer you can remem-
ber," said the minister: "Lord, have mercy upon
me, a sinner, for Jesus Christ's sake."
"And then he went on to make the way of salva-
tion as plain as he could to the mind of the poor
untaught boy, and he seemed to lay hold of it with
the eagerness of a drowning man.

He said to the clergyman, as he was about
Oh! I'd give five hundred million dollars, if I
had them, if I could only read the Bible !"
Four days passed before the minister could come
again, and then the little bed in the corner was
vacant. Down in the room below lay all that was
left of the poor soldier-boy, waiting for his fellow-
soldiers to bear him to his grave.

HUsH little Christian child;
Speak not that holy name
With careless, laughing lip,
Nor in thy playful game;
For the great God of all
Hears every word we say,
And will remember it
In the great judgment-day.
Hush for His hosts unseen
Are watching over thee :
'Tis angels spread their wings,
Thy shelter kind to be.
Wilt thou with words profane,
Rash and undutiful,
Scatter thine angel guards,
Glorious and beautiful?
Honour God's holy name,
Speak it with thought and care,
Sing to it holy hymns,
Breathe it in earnest prayer,
But not with sudden cry,
In thy light joy or pain !
God will hold guilty all
Who take His name in vain."

LOST. 33

"LOST! lost lost!"
Listen to the bellman's chime,
As it thrills on the ear with a suddening sound
Just at the evening time :
"A little, fair-haired child,
And only four years old,
Has wandered afar in her childish glee
Away from its parent fold."

"Who can the anguish tell,
The mingled hope and fear,
As the mother waits, in that desolate home,
Her darling's voice to hear ?
Sad, sad, sad,
The sound of the bellman's chime,
As it rings through the busy, crowded street,
Just at the evening time;
But sadder, sadder still,
The cry of deeper woe
Which ascends from so many childish hearts
That no earthly comfort know.
'Tis heard in the crowded street,
'Mid the city's strife and din,
Where little ones wander with weary feet,
Lost in the ways of sin;
Lost to the voice of love,
To virtue's lessons dear;
Lost to the hope of a home above,
Oppressed with want and fear.
Jesus with pitying eye
These wandering lambs behold !
And gather them all in their childhood's day,
Into thine own blest fold.

ABOUT sixty years ago a good minister (Mr C(ii i )
had charge of a retired country congregation in Wales.
You know Wales on the map. It is a beautiful and
interesting country, and the people speak a language
of their own. Well, the minister went among his
people, determined, by the help of God, to do his
duty to their souls. But he soon began to see that
there was a great scarcity of Bibles in the place.
One day, early in the week, he met a little girl, whom

he knew as a very attentive hearer in the church,
and asked her to repeat the text of last Sabbath.
She hung her head, and did not answer. Can you
not repeat that short verse V" She burst into tears.
"Why do you cry, my child ?" She said the weather
had been so very stormy, and she had not been able
to go over the hills to grandmother, to read the text
in her Bible. Was there not a Bible in her father's
cottage? No, none nearer than grandmother's old
one, in the cottage, six or seven miles away, over the
hills !
The minister was much grieved., He made more
inquiries into the subject, and discovered that only
about one family out of every eighty-three in Wales
had a copy of the Scriptures in their possession,
while some counties of England were not much better
off. This state of things he thought almost like a
heathen land, and it must not go on. So he prayed,
and considered, and consulted with Christian friends
in London, as to how a society might be formed, to
supply Wales with Bibles. They said, Why not
form a society to supply the world ?" And the end
was, by the blessing of God, that the British and
Foreign Bible Society was founded soon it-i-. whi. Ih
has been the means of sending the Bible north and
south, east and west, to the Esquimaux in Green-
land, to the Hottentots in Africa, to the islanders in
the South Seas, to India, China, everywhere, in short,
where missionaries have gone to carry it.

A HOUSE without a Bible
Is like a desert drear,
Without true peace, or joy, or love,
For Jesus is not there.
But the desert may revive,
And brighten into bloom:
Oh, read and love God's holy Word-
Its light Will fill your home.


-- -: ---,

THEY that go down to the sea in ships, that do
business in great waters ; these see the works of the
Lord, and His wonders in the deep." That was true
in David's time, and it is true still; though thousands
of ships have ploughed the ocean since then, the
half of its wonders have not yet been discovered,
and whether it be man or boy who goes to sea, he
will see many a strange sight if he only keeps his
eyes about him.
At first, as he was so young, Sandy was employed
in the cabin to help the steward, as the captain said
he should have him overboard half-a-dozen times a
day if he allowed him to be on deck. Sometimes
boys at sea have a hard life of it, and get a good
share of kicks and cuffs : but Sandy was well treated,
for he was a smart, obliging lad, and was proud to be
useful. Then the mate, Donald Maclean, stood his

friend, as he had promised to his sister, and gave
him lessons in writing and arithmetic. Sandy's
letters home to his kind friend, Mrs Maclean, gave
her full and particular accounts of all the countries
he visited, and the sights he saw. Of course, they
met with storms and calms, good winds and contrary
ones, like all sailors; and once, when they were going
to the West Indies, they met such a gale, that if the
ship "Hawk" hadnotbeen a first-rate sailer, shewould
have foundered. At midnight, the sea carried away
one of the boats, and struck the ship with such vio-
lence, that in a moment everything was thrown from
one side of the cabin to the other. The decks filled
with water six feet high. It was pouring in over the
side by tons-even the cabin was filled with water.
When the ship rolled, the body of water on deck
would rush over to one side, and then to the other,
enough to burst the side open. You can imagine
what a great weight twenty tons of water must be to
come all at once up against the ship's side. Sandy
wrote in his letter that he used to think it was only
talk to say that the sea ran mountains high, but he
found it was really the case. But," says he, this
ship takes no notice of it-she mounts up on the top
of the sea like a cork, while some ships would plunge
heavily down into the sea."
The Hawk stood the gale well, and got safely
into port in the island of Jamaica. They found
afterwards that no less than three ships had gone
down in that fearful storm, quite near to them, and
only part of the crews were saved.
Sandy became quite an expert sailor, and could
climb the mast-head as well as any one; but one day
he was sent aloft to help to reef a sail, when he
missed a step and fell.
"Boy overboard !" was sung out the very instant
that he plunged into the water. The ship was sail-
ing at full speed, and quickly left him far behind.

Well for him was it that he had learned to swim,
and so managed to keep his head above water till he
felt himself grasped by the strong hand of the mate,
who was the first to throw off his jacket and swim to
his help. While the boat was being lowered, one
of the sailors pitched out an empty barrel, to which
they clung.
Quickly as the boat was lowered, it seemed long
before it overtook them, and Sandy was hauled in,
dripping and cold, and half dead with fright. Right
glad was he to find himself once more on deck, and
greeted with the hearty hurrahs of the sailors.
Sandy did not forget that it was God who had
saved his life, and from his very heart he thanked
God for his goodness.
From Jamaica they sailed to different parts of the
West Indies, and every where they saw slaves; for it
was before the happy days of freedom, and men
who called themselves British Christians were not
ashamed to buy and sell their brother men because
their skins were blacker then their own.
One day Sandy met with rather a curious adven-
ture. He was ashore on one of the islands with two
of the sailors, who had acquaintances among the
governor's servants. Sandy was requested to go and
fetch an eel which was swimming about in a tub in
the court-yard, and give it to the cook to dress for
So Sandy plunged his hand to the bottom of the
tub to seize the eel, when he received a blow which
benumbed his whole arm. Without knowing what
it was, he started from the tub, shaking his fingers
and holding his elbow with the other hand, crying
out, I say, Jack, what a thump he fetched me
with his tail!"
His messmate laughing at such an idea, next put
down his hand to take out the slippery eel; but
receiving a similar shock, he cried out, Why, that

was a thump-he is a real fighting fellow ; we must
both have a haul at him together, Sandy; come on !"
Accordingly, they both plunged their hands into
the tub, and seized the fish with a good grasp round
the body. He returned this rough treatment with
such a violent shock, that they were both glad to
quit their hold, and capered about with pain, de-
daring that their arms were broken. They both
took good care not to try their strength with the eel
again. The negroes declared that it was an evil
spirit in the tub, which had taken the shape of an
eel; and the men, superstitious as most sailors are,
half believed it. Sandy afterwards learned, what
some of my readers have perhaps already guessed,
that his opponent was an electrical eel. The shock
which these creatures give when they are touched,
is exactly like that from an electric machine, and
might well astonish any one who felt it for the first
time. F. W. I.
0 THAT mine eye might closed be
To what becomes me not to see;
That deafness might possess mine ear
To what concerns me not to hear;
That truth my tongue might always tie
From ever speaking foolishly;
That no vain thought might ever rest,
Or be conceived within my breast;
That by each word, each deed, each thought,
Glory may to my God be brought.
But what are wishes ? Lord, mine eye
On Thee is fixed; to Thee I cry;
O purge out all my dross, my sin,
Make me more white than snow within;
Wash, Lord, and purify my heart,
And make it clean in every part;
And when 'tis clean, Lord keep it so,
For that is more than I can do.


Tle child, no matter of what age, who has been
ldutiful and kind to his parents, as he stands over
their graves will have no tears to shed there but
those of affection and love; but to the child who has
been unkind, disobedient, and stubborn, a visit to the
sleeping-place of his departed father and mother will
call forth bitter, scalding tears of regret and remorse.
sepn-lc ofhsdpre ahe n ohrwl

We know not which kind of tears this poor young
man is here shedding. He has evidently been a
wanderer upon the sea or the land. Perhaps he ran
away from the comfortable home of his boyhood,
leaving his poor mother to mourn herself into her
After years of perils and sufferings, and, it may be,
wickedness, he came to himself," as the prodigal
did, and has now come back in his rags to his early
home, to find that his broken-hearted mother is
sleeping in the churchyard. Oh, how bitterly he
now weeps over his former wickedness How his
unkindness to that dear mother is sinking like a
leaden weight into his heart, while the bitter tears
are running down his cheeks !
Look at him, dear children See, too, what grief
and anguish may one day wring your hearts, and
what scalding tears may run down your cheeks, if
you fail to keep the fifth commandment, to honour
your father and mother."
I forget a great many things which happened
last year," said a little girl, the tears running down
her cheeks ; "but I can't forget the angry words I
spoke to my dear mother who is now dead."
A dutiful and affectionate son, having lost his
mother, said to one of his friends, I do not believe
that anybody who knows me will charge me with
having neglected my duty to my mother; but, since
her death, I have recollected with sorrow many little
instances in which, I think, I might have shown her
still more respect and attention."
"What would I give," said the famous Charles
Lamb, to call my mother back to earth for one
day, to ask her pardon upon my knees, for all those
acts by which I gave her gentle spirit pain !"
Remember this, and be kind to your mother.
Well S',i'Yj.


I HAD long wished to be the bearer of life to some
condemned cell. My wish was granted me. It
was on a Tuesday night that a poor sentenced crimi-
nal was to be hanged. He was within one day of the
fatal drop. But on the Monday, all unexpectedly,
I was summoned to take him his life. This, as I
have said, is what I had long wished for. So wonder-
ful a privilege was it to be in a position to give life !
My first thought was, Where is the train that
can bear me swift enough to the cell?" I dreamt
not of delay. Delay appeared cruel, until, at the
very threshold of the prison, I bethought me thus :
" How can I tell him ? The news will kill him.
The man will die if I tell him, so great will be the
revulsion. He has died, so to speak. He is dead
in law ; and he is already in the bitterness of death."
So with life in my hand, I stand before the victim in
his cell. His face is wan, his knees feeble. His vacant
eyes have no tears, but are red, and look as if with
dry, hot grief they had burned down into their
sockets. Melancholy picture She who owned
him as her husband had just been carried out from
the last separation-still, and seemingly a corpse,
unconscious of the strange last kiss which a murderer
had impressed on her lips. The expectant orphans,
after their wretched farewell, were crying over the
yet motionless form of their mother.
My poor man, can you read ?"
Yes," was the reply.
But, fearing to break the royal pardon to him too
suddenly, I added,-
"Would you like your life ?"
Sir," he responds, do not trifle with me."
But life is sweet; is it not ?"
Sir, I would rather you would not speak to me."
"But would you not like me to procure your life ?"

"It is of no use, sir; I'm justly condemned. I'm
a dead man."
But the Queen could give you your life !"
He looks inquiringly at me, but is silent.
Can you read this ?"
And now those hot eyes were directed down upon
the paper. As lie intently reads, putting his arm
around my shoulders, I say,-
There, my poor fellow,-there is your life."
No sooner had I uttered the words, than, as I ex-
pected, lie dropped down at my feet. There he lies,
as it were, dead It was more than he could bear.
"What when a man to whom a reprieve is an-
nounced, granting him a few more short years of a
natural life, falls down as dead, may not a sinner
who finds he is not to be lost, but that on believing,
he is saved,-he has ('I, -r. and heaven and ever-
lasting life,-I say, may not he weep, yea, cry,-cry
for joy ?

Yes, rescued soul, cry, cry aloud,
And weep warm tears of joy,
Snatched from the horrors of the pit,
Wide yawning to destroy.
Fall at the feet of Him as dead
Who gives thee pardon free:
Thou dost not, canst not, may not know
From what He saveth thee !
Oh couldst thou for one moment view
That gulf of darkness drear,
Where Love's dear glances never beam,
Nor falls sweet Pity's tear;
Couldst thou but see the stony brows
Enthroning black despair,
And hear the agonising shriek
Of Lost" wild ringing there,--

How wouldst thou bless the mighty grasp
That held thee back from thence,
Low weeping at the Saviour's feet,
In gratitude immense !
Yes, rescued sinner, cry aloud,
And weep warm tears of joy :
Saved from the second death, thy soul
No spoiler shall destroy. Selected.

EVERY one of my readers has seen a thunder-storm.
You have seen the great clouds gathering darker and
darker, you have heard the distant rumbling of the
thunder growing louder and louder as it drew
nearer, and you have started at the bright flash of
lightning which followed the peal. Now I am go-
ing to tell you a few curious things about thunder
and lightning which every one does not know.
Clever men have been gathering together the stories
they have heard of about this subject, and amongst
others M. Arago, and some of these I am going to tell
You must know, then, that there are three kinds of
lightning. There is what is called sheet lightning;
then there is zigzag lightning; and last, of all, there
are thunderbolts. I need not say much of the first
kind, though they are by far the most common. The
light is a broad bright sheet, sometimes just touch-
ing the edge of a cloud, and sometimes filling the
whole of it with light.
Zigzag lightning is not so common, though I sup-
pose almost every one has seen it. It darts from the
cloud to the earth with great velocity, and is very
vivid. When it has gone down in a straight line
for a little it darts to one side, then down again, and
so on till it reaches the ground, and is for this reason
called zigzag lightning.

Sometimes this kind of lightning becomes forked ;
that is to say, it splits at the point into two or three
parts, and these separate and take different direc-
tions. On one occasion, when the flash had divided
into three parts, they struck three different houses
from half a mile to a mile apart.
The thunderbolts, or globes of fire, are still more
curious, and are the least known of all. You will
understand what they are if I give you an example
of what persons have seen. One M. Butti, writing
to M. Arago, narrates the following :-
In the year 1841 he was staying at an hotel in
Milan, in a room on the second floor. It was near
six o'clock in the afternoon, rain was falling in tor-
rents, and the flashes of lightning lighted up the
room. The peals of thunder were exceedingly loud.
Suddenly he heard in the street the sound of run-
ning feet, and several voices of men and boys calling
out, Look Look !" He ran to the window, and the
first thing he saw was a globe of fire at the level of
the window running in the middle of the street.
Eight or ten persons still calling out, Look Look "
with their eyes fixed upon it, kept up with it as it
moved along. He ran down stairs, and saw it
gradually rise till it struck the cross of a steeple, and
disappeared with a sound like the discharge of a
Another example is equally curious. There had
been a thunder-storm one day in the month of June,
when a tailor, who was sitting at his table, saw
the chimney-board fall down as if it had been blown
over by a slight gust of wind, and a globe of fire
about the size of a child's head come out quietly from
the chimney and move about the room. It was
bright and shining, but not hot. It came near him,
but he gently moved away from it, so that it did not
touch him. After a little it rose to a hole which
had been made in the chimney, but which was

covered with a piece of paper. The man said, "The
thunder could not see the hole," but for all that, it
went straight to it, unpasted the paper without hurt-
ing it, made its way into the chimney, and after
rising a good way it burst with a dreadful explosion,
which destroyed the upper part of the chimney. I
have no doubt he was very thankful it had not ex-
ploded in the room.
There is another very curious effect which some-
times accompanies a thunder-storm-the appearance
of fire or flames. During a thunder-storm in 1839,
some labourers, a few moments before a thunder-
stroke, observed that their clothes were covered with
fire. As they were making vain efforts to rid them-
selves of these flames, they saw with increased terror
the trees and masts of the ships in the port sparkling
with the same flame. As soon as they heard the'
thunder, the flames disappeared.
It sometimes also happens that the rain or hail
which falls during great thunder-storms is luminous.
A gentleman travelling one day in such a storm
stooped to allow the rain on the brim of his hat to
run off, when meeting the rain from the clouds,
sparks were struck out.
Are there any means of protecting ourselves from
lightning ? It would be a very pleasant thing could
I inform you what you ought to do in a thunder-
storm so as to avoid all danger, but this I cannot
do. There are not, however, a great many persons in
a year injured or killed by ;_l.ti; .-, and though a
storm may be raging for hours it will often pass
away without hurting any one.
Some persons have thought that lightning cannot
pass through water. But in 1772, after a stroke of
lightning, the surface of the water at Besancon was
seen covered with fish, stunned and floating with
the current of the river Doubs. Others imagine
that no place is so safe as the bed, and that under the

bedclothes one may be perfectly secure. It is said,
for instance, that in England, in 1828, a wooden bed-
stead was broken to pieces by lightning, the bed-
clothes and mattress were rolled off on the ground,
together with the person who was sleeping in the
bed, who nevertheless escaped quite uninjured. But
there are many cases of persons being killed in bed.
In 1772 Mr Heartly was killed while in bed; his
wife, who was beside him, was not even awakened.
What a sad waking to her in the morning How
needful that we should all be ready for such an
Many persons run for shelter to a tree in a
thunder-storm, but nothing is more unsafe, and trees
have been struck in the very middle of a great
forest. Nor is glass a protection, as the lightning
will shatter and pierce the glass if it strike it. In-
deed, the manner in which lightning strikes different
objects is very singular. Thus, on one occasion, the
lightning struck a house, and pierced a hole in a
pane of glass as round and clean as if drilled with
an auger. An ox in Sussex was struck, which was
of a reddish colour spotted with white; not a hair
was left on the white spots, while the red part was
uninjured. A lady was once putting out her hand
to close a window during a thunder-storm; the light-
ning darted, and the gold bracelet which she wore
disappeared altogether, while she received only some
slight hurts. Another lady, in a similar case, had
her bonnet which she wore reduced to ashes without
being injured. A miller was one day walking be-
tween a horse and a mule; the two animals were
struck dead, but he was only stunned and slightly
There is no way of being quite safe from light-
ning, but our readers must not grow alarmed for
every cloud that gathers, as if there was a danger of
their being killed, for, as I told you, very few are

injured by lightning in the course of a year. One
of the best preservatives from lightning is the light-
ning conductor. If a rod of iron is attached to a
house or steeple, and is raised a little above it, the
lightning will almost certainly strike that rod, and
be carried by it down to the ground without injur-
ing the building. Our surest protection is in the
care of God. He shall cover thee with His
feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust; His
truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not
be afraid of the terror by night; nor for the arrow
that flieth by day."

A WASP met a bee that was just buzzing by,
And he said, Little cousin, can you tell me why
You are loved so much better by people than I?
" My back shines as bright and as yellow as gold,
And my shape is most elegant, too, to behold;
Yet nobody likes me for that, I am told."
" Ah friend," said the bee, it is all very true;
But if I were half as much mischief to do,
Then people would love me no better than you.
" You can boast a fine shape and a delicate wing;
You are perfectly handsome ; but yet there's one
That can't be put up with, and that is your sting.
My coat is quite homely and plain, as you see
Yet nobody ever is angry with me;
Because I'm a useful and innocent bee."
From this little story let people beware,
Because, like the wasp, if ill-natured they are,
They will never be loved, though they're ever so fair.



1' -

ii ', ~ '

AFTER a three years' cruise, during which time the
" Hawk" had sailed to different ports in the East
and West Indies, she was homeward bound. In
those days there were no steamers, so that a voyage
across the ocean was a very different affair from what
it is now. The Hawk was a large merchant ves-
sel, and did not usually carry passengers; but this
time she had a young English officer on board, who
was returning home in poor health. One day when

he was sitting on deck, he observed the mate Mac-
lean reading, and remarked that he supposed he was
amusing himself with a book to kill time."
"No, sir," said Maclean; "I am trying to save
time. It is the Bible I am reading; and sometimes,
when we are busy with foul weather, I don't get so
much time for reading as I should like."
The officer yawned, and wondered how the man
could be so fond of reading the Bible. I sup-
pose," said he, there are not many sailors as reli-
gious as you. How did you come to be better than
the rest of them ?"
"Well, sir," said the mate, when I first went to
sea I had to suffer a good deal for what little religion
I had, and that made me hold on to it faster, do
you see 7 The mate was a terrible rough, passionate
sort of man, and for the least mistake I have seen
him order me to the mast-head, and keep me there
till I could hardly tell whether I had any fingers or
toes. I recollect once, in a dreadful storm, when we
expected every moment the ship would go to pieces,
I was so frightened that I fell down upon my knees
and prayed God to have mercy upon me. The mate
was in a terrible rage, and swore he would have no
praying parsons to sink the ship, and ordered me to
go aloft to fasten a loose rope. The second mate
begged him to send a man instead of me, but he
wouldn't listen; he would cure me of praying, said
he. So I was forced to go. But instead of curing
me of praying, it only made me more determined not
to give it up. Well, sir, after a while the mate fell
ill, and thought he was going to die. One day he
sent for me, and asked if I had got a Bible to read a
chapter to him. Then he asked me if I could put
up a prayer, for there wasn't a man on board who
could do it. So I did, as well as I could, and I
never saw a man so eager to hear all about our
Saviour, He lived a few weeks after this, and I do

think he was a changed man, sir, and died happy,
trusting in Jesus. Now, sir, I have often thought
that if I had given up religion for a few cuffs and
kicks, I should never have been able to do good to
the mate."
"Ay, ay, stand to your colours," said the young
officer, with another yawn. Time hung heavily
enough on his hands; he little thought that before
long he would have been glad to have had a little more
of that precious time which he now trifled away.
A short time after this the ship lay becalmed for
several days. Not a breath of wind stirred the sails,
and the good ship was
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean."
To break the monotony of this inactive sort of life,
the young officer proposed to go ashore for a few
hours' shooting. They had been lying opposite a
beautiful island for some days withotit seeming to
move a yard. So the mate Maclean and our friend
Sandy rowed the officer to land. After a few hours,
pleasantly spent, Maclean said he saw signs of
a change of weather, and they hurried to the boat to
return to the ship. So sudden was the change that
by the time they reached the boat, the sea, which
for days had been like a glassy lake, was now white
with foam, and such angry surf burst upon the
shore, that it was with difficulty they could launch
their boat. Maclean saw they would have a hard
pull to get back to the ship, and he was right.
However, he and Sandy worked manfully at the oars,
and made some progress, though both wind and tide
were against them. The mate had just made the re-
mark to the young officer, There is no danger, sir,
only we shall have a long pull," when in an instant
the boat gave a heavy thump, and almost spun round
with the violence of the shock. She had struck
against a sharp rock which broke in her side, and in
another moment all three were in the water. The

mate and Sandy clung to the shattered boat, but the
poor young officer sunk in the waves. Once Maclean
saw him rise to the surface, and pushed an oar towards
him, shouting to him to lay hold of it. The officer
did so, and clung to it with all his strengh. If he
can only hold fast till I win to him !" muttered Mac-
lean, as with one hand grasping the broken spars of
the boat, with the other he struck out gallantly and
tried to swim towards him. He heard him cry to
God to have mercy on his poor soul; then a huge
wave hid him from his sight, and when next he saw
the oar, the young officer was no longer clinging to it;
he had sunk to rise no more, until that day when the
sea shall give up the dead which are in it, and the
dead, small and great, shall stand before God. He
had passed from time into eternity; and Maclean
shuddered as he thought how suddenly he had been
called to appear before his Maker. He himself and
Sandy were now in the greatest danger. Both were
fast losing the power to swim; the raging sea tossed
them about at its will; and at length all they could
do was to cling fast to the broken boat, and so keep
their heads above water, letting the waves drive
them where they would. At length a wave which
had borne them on its crest landed them on a rock;
and, blinded and bruised as they were, how they
clung to that rugged rock, and felt themselves saved !
And yet the next minute their hearts sunk within
them, for what safety was there on that low rock?
They knew the tide was fast rising, and would soon
cover the rock which had given them shelter.
Cheer up !" cried the mate. "See yon boat our
ship is sending out to us We must hoist a flag."
So they stripped off their dripping shirts, and hung
them out for a signal.
Now," said Maclean, we can do nothing more;
let us pray !" and he offered a prayer, short and
earnest, such as men pray when they are pleading for

their lives. Then they climbed the highest point of
the rock, for the waves were gaining on them, and
there they stood with beating hearts, watching the
boat which was coming to their help. They could
hear the cheers of the brave men who were risking
their lives to save them.
Will they be in time?" asked Sandy in a hoarse
I doubt it," was the answer. So far as 1 can see,
they cannot reach us in less than ten minutes.
Now, at the rate the tide is coming in, this rock will
be covered in less than five."
"I thought so," said Sandy in a choking voice,
"and then-"
May the Lord have mercy on our souls, for Jesus
Christ's sake," said the mate solemnly.
Amen," was the response; and Sandy prayed in
his heart that God would wash out all his sins for
Christ's sake. He had offered this prayer before,
but never as now, when he stood face to face with
death. The words that gave him comfort, and
seemed to him like a direct message from God were
these, The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth
us from all sin."
The rock was now covered ; they could no longer
stand upright on it, but, lying in the water, grasped
it with their arms.
We shall soon be in port, hold fast by Christ,"
said the mate; and these were his last words, when a
stormy wave loosened their hold of the rock, and
washed them away.
But they did not perish! At that very moment
the boat was so near them that two of the sailors,
armed with life-preservers, jumped into the water,
and brought them both to the boat, but in such a
state of exhaustion and unconsciousness that at first
they were thought to be dead. By the use of the
.usual means they were restored, but it was some days

before Sandy was quite well, and Maclean was never
the same man again. F. W. 1.

THIS question was asked by a very little girl, so
little that her father could not make her understand
how it is that to-morrow is always one day forward,
and we can never overtake it.
But the children who read this paper understand
this. You know that to-morrow is all the while
changing to to-day, and to-day is all the while slip-
ping away into yesterday. The time will never
come when you can say, Now it is to-morrow." It
is like trying to run upon your shadow, that lies
along the ground before you; it moves on just as
fast as you move, and keeps just so far off. Or, it
is like going to the end of the rainbow: as soon as
you are there, you see the rainbow in another place,
as far off from you as it was before. They used to
tell me, if I would go to the end of the rainbow,
I would find a bag of money." They knew I could
never go to the end of it.
Just so you never overtake to-morrow. As soon
as you come to it, it will be to-day, and then what
is now to-day will be yesterday.
Children, the time to do anything is not to-mor-
row nor yesterday, but to-day. We can make no
use of time, except while it is called to-day."
Think how fast to-day is slipping by; how soon it
will be gone, and you will call it yesterday. When
it has become yesterday, you can put no more good
deeds into it. Be quick, and put them into to-day.
Fill it full of them. Fill every to-day with kind-
ness and prayer and study and love and duty, and
then every yesterday will be pleasant to look back
upon; and then no matter how fast the to-morrows


0, TELL ie, pretty river!
Whence do thy waters flow ?
And whither art thou roaming,
So pensive and so slow?
"My birthplace was the mountain,
My nurse the April shower;
MIy cradle was a fountain,
O'er-curtained by wild flowers.
,' ;I! o_- .

0'er-curtainedl by wild flowers.

One morn I ran away,
A madcap, hoyden rill-
And many a prank that day
I played a-down the hill!
"And then, 'mid meadowy banks,
I flirted with the flowers,
That stooped, with glowing lips,
To woo me to their bowers.
"But these bright scenes are o'er,
And darkly flows my wave;
I hear the ocean's roar,
And there must be my grave !"

"I AM sure I 'cannot understand that verse," said
Josey Carleton to his cousin. "I don't know what is
meant by heaping coals of fire on one's head, and I
think it is queer talk to be in the Bible."
His cousin Mary was called away before she could
reply, and Josey went out with his sled. In a base-
ment near his home lived a black woman, who made
and sold cakes and pies. Josey loved to annoy this
woman. He threw chips, bits of coal, and snow-
balls down her doorway; he tried to slide against her
as she toiled along bearing a heavy basket; and he
spattered her windows with dirty water. Josey made
himself the torment of Dinah's life. Hewas naturally
mischievous, and, moreover, was idle ; and you know
Satan is always finding work for idle hands.
Josey coasted past the black woman's window, and
then returned to torment her. Dinah was surprised
by a snowball. She went to the door, but Josey had
hidden. When she returned to her baking, Josey
made a hard ball, and threw it into a basket of eggs
that stood on the floor. Dinah had left the door

open, as her kitchen was full of smoke. When she
saw her eggs broken, she hurried out, crying,-
Indeed, little master, I have borne this as long as
I can. I'll go and complain to your folks; so I will."
Pooh they wont let you in at the door; and, if
they did, Ma would'nt believe what you said," re-
torted Josey, running off with his sled. Near his
own door he turned to make grimaces at Dinah ; and,
slipping on the ice, he fell heavily against the stone
step. He lay insensible; and Dinah, forgetting her
vexation, ran to his relief. She raised him tenderly
in her arms, and carried him into the house; while
his mother, who had come out in great alarm, sent for
a surgeon. The first thing Josey saw when he
opened his eyes was Dinah chafing his temples, and
looking compassionately upon him. His cheeks red-
dened with shame as he turned away. For several
days Josey was very ill; and every morning Dinah
came to inquire after him. When she found him able
to sit up and see company, she brought him a plate of
delicate cakes. When she came into his room, Josey
covered his face with his hands, saying-
0 Dinah how can you be so good to me !"
"Why, master," replied Dinah, the Saviour
says to do so-to love everybody: and suppose you
did tease me, don't I know you are sorry for it?
and so I must be kind to you."
"Oh, dear!" said Josey humbly, "I never could be
so good to anybody who had acted so mean to me."
You could if you loved Jesus Christ," said Dinah.
"I wish I did. 0 Dinah I was very near dying."
Just then Cousin Mary came in.
Now, cousin," cried Josey, "I know what it
means about coals of fire heaped on an enemy's head.
Dinah has taught me. No punishment could have
made me so sorry and ashamed as her goodness."


d|| 'r i ",'

Two boys and a girl, the eldest boy nine, the girl
seven, and the youngest boy five, the children of a
carpenter named Duff, wandered by themselves into
the woods and were lost. They had been sent out
by their mother, as they often had gone out on the
same errand before, to gather sticks, and not return-
ing before dark, the parents became alarmed, and a
, ---

WOOD. II~grP~~

'Twoby n irt ods oynntegr

search commenced. The father, assisted by friends
and neighbours in large numbers, scoured the country
in every direction for nights and days in vain. At
length, in despair, the assistance of some natives was
obtained, these people possessing a wonderful instinct
in following up the very faintest tracks. The natives
soon came upon the traces of the little wanderers,
expatiating, as these trackers always do, at every
bent twig, or flattened tuft of grass, on the apparent
doings of the object of their search. "Here little
one tired; sit down. Big one kneel down, carry
him along. Here travel all night; dark; not see
that bush; her fall on him." Further on, and more
observations. "Here little one tired again; big one
kneel down; no able to rise, fall flat on his face."
The accuracy of these observations was afterwards
curiously shown by the children themselves.
On the eighth day after they were lost, and long
after the extinction of the faintest hope of their ever
being again seen alive, the searching party came on
them. They were lying all in a row on a clump of
brush, among some trees, the youngest in the middle
carefully wrapped in his sister's frock. They ap-
peared to be in a deep and not unpleasant sleep.
On being awakened, the eldest tried to sit up, but
fell back. His face was much emaciated, and he
could just feebly groan, "Father." The youngest,
who had suffered least, woke up as from a dream.
The sister, who was almost quite gone, when lifted
up, could only murmur, Cold, cold." She had
stripped herself of her frock, as the elder boy said,
"to cover Frank, for he was crying with cold."
The children have all since done well, and are
rapidly recovering. They were without food, and.
by their own account, had only one drink of water
during the whole time they were out.


"A POOR negress came one morning" (says the late
Mrs Jones) to the mission-house to be instructed to
read de great Word.'" Mrs Jones, perceiving her
great feebleness and age, gave her no encouragement,
but said that there were many young people whom
she was anxious to teach, and her time was pre-oc-
cupied. The aged woman, admitting this, replied,
"Missie, we know you ab plenty do: but me get
up dis morning at sunrise, and me pray to de Great
Massa, when me ab me face to the sun; and me
say, Me Great Massa, beg you put it in missie heart
teach me read de Great Word, and strengthen me
feeble body, dat me go to missie at Parham.' And
me set off; and, missie, me feel tired,, and me sit
down; and me pray to de Great Massa to strengthen
me; and de Great Massa hear me, and He help me,
missie, to come across de hills; and now me come,
and me beg missie to teach me."
Mrs Jones, still thinking her too old to learn, en-
deavoured to turn her from her purpose. The aged
suppliant replied, "Yes, missile, me know me be
very old, and" (lifting her hands to her head) "me
head be very tick; but then me ask de Great Massa
to teach me, and me know He can."
Mrs Jones then asked her why she was so anxious
to be taught: to which the aged negress replied,
"Missie, what makes me wish is, dat when me be
sick, and ab de fever, and me no able to come to de
prayer-house, massa missionary ab plenty to do, he
no able to come to see me ebry day; and then me tink
me no able to go; and den me can take up de Great
Word, and read the promises, and all about Massa
Jesus. You know, missie, it be light to de paff, and
lantern to de feet, and it comfort me when me die."
This last appeal- was irresistible; and a day was
fixed for commencing to instruct this anxious in-

quirer. The poor old slave, having been provided with
a book, came, accordingly, at the time appointed.
Mrs Jones found her scholar unable to read a single
letter; but by perseverance she was in a short time
enabled to put letters together, so as to be able to
spell a short word; and when, on one occasion, she
had deciphered the word "Lord," her demonstra-
tion of joy was indescribable, and she said, Missie,"
dat be de Great Mi name."
Mrs Jones nodding assent, she let her book fall,
and clasping her hands together and raising them to-
wards heaven, exclaimed, O, me Great Massa, me
able to spell dy great name !" and then attempting
to spell it again, as if to be quite certain she could
do so, she repeated a second time the letters,
"Lord;" and, looking at her instructress for her ap-
proval, asked, Missie, dat be right ?"
On acquiescence being given, she added, "Tank de
Great Massa for teaching me to read de Great Word;"
at the same time praying most earnestly that God
would bless massa missionary, and missie, and the
good land (meaning England). The aged scholar
continued for some time in a strain of joy and exul-
tation, the tears rolling down her black cheeks, until
the ground on which she stood was bedewed with
them. She continued to attend, though at the ex-
pense to herself of great bodily exhaustion; having
to travel alone, and each time four or five miles under
a scorching sun. He who had inspired her to read
His sacred Word enabled her to overcome every ob-
stacle, and to make such progress, that, before Mrs
Jones left the island, she could read the New Testa-
ment tolerably well, and it became her guide and
Will not this poor slave rise up in the judgment
and condemn many in this Christian land, who are
able to read de great Word," but who do not love
or obey it -- Well Spring.


NOW-A-DAYS, if a person wishes to have landed pro-
perty, he must purchase it; but in former years
many became great proprietors by deeds of valour,
either against the enemies of their country or the
wild animals by which it was infested.
The tale we are going to tell you is an old story
of Scotland, about the year 1280, in the reign of
Alexander the Third. At that time, what is called
the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright was ravaged by a
wild boar of prodigious strength and ferocity, and
many a brave man who had attempted to slay it had
been killed. The king, hearing of this, offered a
rich tract of land near Kirkcudbright (pronounced
Kirkcoobree), to any one who would destroy the
dangerous brute.
One Adam of Lochinvar undertook the perilous
adventure, and armed with sword and spear and
dagger, he sought out its lair, and after a desperate
battle succeeded in killing it. Wearied out with his
long combat, he lay down to sleep beside the carcase
of the monster.
Now there were knaves in those days, which we
call the good old times, as well as in these days,
who do not know that honesty is the best policy,
and that honest poverty is better than riches gained
by fraud. Such a man was Laird Maxwell, a small
proprietor in the neighbourhood, who, riding past,
saw the dead boar, and young Lochinvar fast asleep
beside it. This was too good an opportunity to be
lost, so springing down he cut off the boar's head,
mounted his stout Galloway, and hurried away to
Edinburgh to secure the grant of land offered by the
Lochinvar woke up after a good sound sleep, and
saw that the, head of the boar was gone. He sus-
pected at once that some one meant to defraud him

by exhibiting it, and affirming that he was the
vanquisher. He therefore with all speed sought out
a fleet horse, and as fast as whip and spur could
hurry it sped across the country to Edinburgh,
where the king was at the time. Maxwell had
reached the court before him, had seen the king,
and had laid the head of the boar at his feet as a
proof that he had killed it, and claimed the broad
acres for his reward.
Just then young Lochinvar rushed into the king's
presence, and asserted that it was he who had killed
the boar, and that Maxwell, while he was asleep, had
carried off its head.
But what proof have you?" asked the monarch.
Sire," replied Lochinvar, "a part only of the
head is there."
He lies," cried Maxwell; "you, Sire, can judge
whether he is to be believed."
There is only a part of the head there," cried
Lochinvar; "see what is this? As he spoke he
put his hand into a leather pouch which he carried,
and produced a tongue He had been as prudent
as he was brave; for before lying down to sleep he
had cut off the tongue of the boar, to prevent an-
other claiming the victory.
The jaws of the boar were forced open, no tongue
lay between these terrible tusks, and the proof was
complete. The trembling Maxwell was severely
punished for his attempted fraud, and the gallant
youth obtained a grant of land, which to this day
bears the name of TONGUELAND or TONGLAND.

ALWAYS have a word with God before you enter into
conversation with men.-Bridge.



Je-sus loves me, this I know, For the l-ble tells me so

Lit-fte ones to Himl be-long: They nr weak. but He i strong.

Je-sua loves me, th a I know, For the Bi ble tellisme so.

2. Jesus loves me, He who died 3. Jesus loves me, loves me still,
Heaven's gate to open wide; Though I'm very weak and ill;
He will wash away my sin, From His shining throne on high
Let His little child come in. Comes to watch me where I lie.
Jesus loves me, this I know, Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so. For the Bible tells me so.

4. Jesus loves me, He will stay
Close beside me all the way:
If I love Him, when I die
He will take me home on high.
Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.


"A LITTLE spring had lost its way
Among the grass and fern;
"A passing stranger scooped a well,
Where weary man might turn.
He walled it in, and hung with care
A ladle at its brink :


He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that toil might drink.
He passed again, and lo the well,
By summers never dried,
Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues,
And saved a life beside.
A nameless man, amid a crowd
That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall the words of hope and love,
Unstudied from the heart,
A whisper on the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath-
It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.
O fount 0 fruitful word of love !
O thought at random cast!
Ye were but little at the first,
But mighty at the last 1

THEY said he looked cross and surly. Perhaps lie
did. Fatigue and hunger are not incentives to good
humour. I don't mean when there is a happy home,
and a well-spread board, and smiling faces waiting
us: when every step, every moment, brings us nearer
to these enjoyments, then they may serve to put us
in the best of spirits. But I mean when there is an
empty cupboard, a cold grate, and no welcome.
Then a man is likely to feel miserable and to get
cross. I do not say he ought-I say he often does;
and if John Morton did look cross, and was a trifle
surly, it was nothing more than might have been
expected. He was a little out-of-sorts, he said him-
self, when Lizzy met him at the door of their hovel
-a little out-of-sorts, dear, that was all.
Out-of-sorts, that he was, poor fellow. His worn

out clothes were patched all over-Lizzy's thrifty
fingers had done that; his boots were worse than
none, for they let the water in, and kept it; his hat
had lost its shape and nap long ago, and had a bit
of straw twisted round the crown; his face was pale
and haggard, and the pile of baskets he carried on
his shoulder (he was a basket-maker) were in a sorry
plight-for it was an April day, and had been rain-
ing and shining by turns from the time the sun rose
to the time it set, just exactly the time poor John
Morton had been tramping about the country, trying
to sell his wares, and failing everywhere. He had
not taken a copper.
Lizzy took his wet hand in her own, and, looking
up at him with a smile such as a child can only give,
led him into their home.
Oh, father," she said, "I have been wishing so
for you to come back. Let me help you with those
baskets, father. I have been wishing, wishing,
wishing-there, father, let me take your hat-that
you would come. Oh, father, how wet you are. I
have been down the lane looking for you seven
times, and wondering to myself how soon you would
There were some sticks burning on the hearth, and
on a wooden box beside them Morton sat down.
"And now I have come, Lizzy," he said, I have
nothing for you-not a penny, not a crust; there
will be no supper to-night nor breakfast to-morrow."
Lizzy laughed; it was such a merry, ringing
laugh, that her father looked at her in surprise.
'Tis no laughing matter," he said; "and if you
think I jest, you're quite mistaken."
"Oh, father," said Lizzy, I can't help laughing
-I am so glad. See here."
She threw her arm round him, and in her other
hand held out five shillings.
"MMoney, Lizzy, money-where did you get it?

where?-how ?-when? Speak truth, child. Tell
me-you have not-you have not- "
Stolen it, father? No, no; I would die first."
"Begged it, eh ? Almost as bad. They send you
to prison for begging as well as thieving."
No, father, nor begged."
How, then? Did you find it, eh-in the road,
by the park gate, by the old mill, where the ladies
go to make the pictures, eh?"
No, father-I earned it. I made up some little
nosegays, and a lady bought them, and gave me
"Thank God !" said the man.
"Yes, father; it was God who sent it. I should
never have got it without. When you went out
this morning, and said you was not hungry, because
there was only a little bread, and you thought I
should want it-I knew the secret,-I knelt down,
and asked our Father in heaven to help me to help
my father on earth. Then I thought of the violets
-then I went and gathered them-then the ladies
came and bought them. Oh, it was God's doing;
and you and I will thank Him together."
"Thank God !" he said-" thank God!" And
then looking at his child in a half-abstracted way,
repeated, Of such is the kingdom of heaven."
How much five shillings can accomplish; how
much comfort it can buy! A blazing fire on the
hearth, a warm, savoury meal on the table, with the
certainty of something to eat to-morrow, made a won-
derful change for the better in John Morton's home.
He said, and truly too, it seemed just in keeping
with the weather, that so much harass and trouble
should bring about so suddenly a pleasant change.
Lizzy said so too; and when her father told her to
sing him one of the songs her mother used to sing
before poverty and sickness had hushed her singing
for ever in this world, she sang-


Life is like an April day-
Changing ever:
Now so sad and now so gay-
Constant never:
Sunshine follows after rain,
Pleasure follows after pain,
Till the smiles and tears together,
Like the changing April weather,
Paint Hope's rainbow on the cloud.
"Hope said Morton; "that's a good thing;
but hope deferred, you know, Lizzy, makes the heart
Next morning, when Morton was just ready to
start on his day's tramp, and Lizzy, mindful of her
violets, was bent on gathering fresh nosegays, a
carriage drove up, drawn by two of the finest horses
you ever saw in your life, and out there got two
ladies. One of them was elderly, and not over
handsome; the other young, and extremely pretty.
Their rich dresses and bright jewels contrasted
strangely with the poverty about them, and the
elderly lady seemed almost doubtful about entering.
John Morton took off his hat, and Lizzy made her
lowest courtesy.
My good man," said the elderly lady, my
daughter and myself noticed with some pleasure your
little girl; her pretty face, her civil behaviour, and
apparent innocence, interested us in her welfare.
We have resolved to befriend her."
May God bless you, madam; she sorely needs a
"I shall send her- What do you call the
child ?"
"Lizzy, made ; it was her mother's name."
"Well, Elizabeth will be sent to an industrial
school, where she will be properly trained (you will
have an opportunity of seeing her once a month),
and when old enough, if well conducted, I will take
her into my own service."

John Morton did not reply; he looked at his child,
who nestled closer to him; looked at the ladies, then
said softly-
I humbly ask your pardon, ladies; but you would
not take my child away from me."
Why, my good man, what do you mean ? What
possible good could come of allowing the child to
remain here?"
She is my only child. I have not a single thing
in the world but her to love me. It would break
her heart and mine too, to separate us."
Oh, father," whispered little Lizzy, don't let me
Silly nonsense," said the elderly lady; "this is
really too absurd. If you like to accept my offer,
you are welcome; if not- "
If not, mamma," interrupted the young lady,
"let me offer my help. I saw the child first-I
bought her violets : I really think I have some right
to interfere for my little favourite."
No such thing, Maria. Either this man takes
my offer or he leaves it."
"Then I must leave it, although I thank you
humbly for it. The little girl is all I have; she is
the joy of my eyes, and she will ever be so till her
own dear fingers close them."
The elder lady insisted upon leaving; the younger
dropped some money into Lizzy's hand, and then
away they whirled for a drive.
They left a cloud behind them. It was April
John kissed his child, and tramped away on his
rounds, but he sold nothing. Lizzy gathered her
violets, but sold nothing, and so the day passed, and
twilight came. John returned weary, and "out-of-
sorts," and, though there was a meal and a fire, he
had no spirit for enjoyment. He had scarcely
entered, however, before Lizzy called to him-

"Father, father, see what a beautiful rainbow !"
He stood by her, and looked up at the rain-cloud,
on which the sunshine had painted the beautiful
bow-the sign of the Covenant of God with the
world-the emblem of that rainbow which is round
about the throne.
While they were looking at it they saw coming
towards them the younger lady, and Lizzy, with
childlike simplicity, ran to meet her. She took the
child's hand in her own, and, with a pleasant smile,
came on to the dwelling.
"I have good news," she said to John, "and
therefore I am the bearer of it myself. Mlamma has
given me leave to do as I like about your little
daughter, and I hope to make things comfortable."
John thanked her heartily, but still seemed doubt-
I was so pleased with your affection for Lizzy,
and with Lizzy's affection for you, that I would not
dare to propose a separation. We want a gate-
keeper, and you are welcome to the place if you like
to have it; if so, Lizzy can live with you, attend the
village school, and come up to the house when she
is wanted. Will this do?"
Would that do Why, if Lizzy and her father
had been asked to mention what they would prefer,
that is just the very proposition they would have
made. How could they thank the lady enough?
She would not listen to any thanks, saying she had
only done what was right.
"It is very strange," said John, when she had
gone-" very wonderful."
No, father, I think not," said Lizzy. God is
so good to all, that there is nothing strange in His
being good to us."
Right, child, right," said he; I never thought
of that before. Yes, God is good-God is always
good." And then he murmured to himself-an odd

way he had when he was thinking-" and a little
child shall lead them."
Lizzy and her father have been installed in the
gate lodge for some time, and Lizzy is making great
progress at the school. She has recently finished a
large piece of crotchet work, which the elderly lady
approves. It has a border of forget-me-nots, and
this text in the middle-" I will never forsake thee."

EMBOSOMED in the hills above the town of Sheffield
was a large artificial lake, covering some seventy-six
acres. A vast body of water was imprisoned here,
kept back in front by a huge embankment. All
down the valley were scattered peaceful homes, busy
factories, and gleaming forges. No doubt the in-
habitants sometimes looked up toward the beauti-
ful lake, and thought how fearful would be the ruin
if the dam should give way, but though it was some-
times whispered that it was not as well constructed
as it should be, no one apprehended danger from this
One Friday night the winds beat the huge waves
with violence against the sides of the basin, adding
still more to the immense pressure which such a
volume of water must cause. As the sun went
down, a messenger called at many a cottage door,
telling that all was not right above, and that it
would be safe to leave their homes for the night.
Many heeded the friendly warning, but others could
see no danger. The embankment looked the same to
them that it had ever looked since they could re-
member. It had stood worse storms than this many
a time. And so they laid themselves down to rest;
but oh, what an awakening was before them !

A young farmer noticed at dusk an ugly crack in
the vast wall, and workmen were hastily brought to
strengthen the works. They toiled on till midnight,
another party striving to lessen the pressure by
drawing off a portion of the water. But a little
after midnight a furious gust of wind drove the
waves with great violence against the wall, and in
another moment, with a burst of sound like deepest
thunder, they leaped the barrier, and rushed with
mad haste down to their work of death. Here a
farm house, with all its surroundings, its well stored
barns, and flocks and herds, were entirely swept
away; there a row of cottages with all their sleep-
ing inmates; here a great wood entirely disappeared
before the wrath of the foaming waters.
The scene was wild and terrible beyond descrip-
tion. Whirling on with the resistless tide were
wrecks of homes, factories, implements of husbandry,
stacks of hay, drowning cattle, and men, women,
and little children. A whole village was swept
away or laid in ruins.
How terrible such a scene even to a looker on.
But how infinitely more drear'ful to have been one
of its victims. What despair must have seized the
poor cottager who treated as an idle rumour the
warning at sunset, and laid him down to sleep in
his doomed dwelling. But when the floods came
there was no escape.
Yet what is temporal ruin compared with that
which is eternal ? How have you treated the warn-
ings God has sent to you ? It will be too late when
the waves of fire are surging around you. It will be
too late when God takes away the soul. Oh, be
warned in season, before the floods of divine wrath
descend upon you.-S. S. Times.



"l ii ''i-'L8t. iii'r'I

WHIILE Donald Maclean was mate of the Hawk" all
things went well with Sandy. But after the narrow
escape from shipwreck, which was narrated in the
last chapter, Maclean suffered greatly from rheuma-
tism, and retired from the sea altogether. Then
came changed days for Sandy. The new mate was
an irreligious man; a great contrast to Maclean in
every way. It had been Maclean's custom to read

a chapter and pray daily with Sandy; and latterly
they had been joined by a young lad named Duff.
But with the new mate, even the private reading of
the Bible required some courage; for the men, no
longer restrained by having a Christian man over
them, overwhelmed poor Sandy and Duff with ridi-
cule, calling them Methodists and saints. When
Sandy kneeled down, as had always been his custom
before turning into his berth, there would be sure to
be two or three of his comrades ready to make sport
of him. At one time they would imitate the cries
of animals, at another they would make provoking
r marks about him, or they would profanely imitate
him, and pretend to be praying too. Perhaps, if
Sandy could have kept his temper, his tormentors
would have grown tired of their sport; but he was
often provoked to anger, and then they ridiculed
him the more. The mate would only have laughed
if Sandy had complained to him; and as for the
_aptain, so long as the men did their work, they
might amuse themselves as they pleased. So Sandy
had to stand the persecution as he best could. He
did, however, get a good deal of help from such
texts of Scripture as these: "It is better, if the will
of God be so, that ye suffer for well-doing than for
evil-doing"--"If any man suffer as a Christian, let
him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God on this
behalf." Then he remembered how, when the Lord
Jesus Christ was mocked and scourged and spit
upon, He meekly bore it all. He was oppressed and
He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; and
when He was accused of many things, He answered
nothing." So he tried hard to hold his tongue, and
prayed God to help him to act as a Christian should.
As time went on, Sandy looked forward with
great eagerness to the period when he would be free
from his apprenticeship. It was the time of the
French war, when seamen were greatly needed, and

he wished above all things to serve on board a man-
of-war. At length he was nineteen, and the term
of his apprenticeship was out. But his master
would not allow him to leave the ship, and seemed
resolved to keep him whether he had the right or
not. Here again he missed his friend Maclean, who
would have seen that justice was done him.
After six months' waiting, he resolved to take the
first opportunity of leaving the ship. They were at
the Cape of Good Hope. A man-of-war, the Re-
solute," was lying at anchor, and Sandy determined
to join her. He went to the captain, and demanded
his discharge, but the captain refused to give it, and
even threatened what he would do if he ever spoke
on the subject again.
Sandy made no answer, but left the captain with
his mind made up what to do. He watched care-
fully till he saw that no one was by, and then
quietly letting himself down over the side of the
ship, he swam towards the man-of-war. The sea
was calm, and Sandy struck out boldly, turning his
head once or twice to see if he was pursued. No,
all is quiet on board ship, they have not noticed
him; yes-there is a boat let down-they are pur-
suing him! Sandy sees them, and redoubles his
efforts; truly, he is a noble swimmer! He has
almost gained the man-of-war, whose men are
gathered on deck cheering him on, and now certain
of his success, when with horror they perceive a
4ark close upon him. Sandy hears the shout,
"A shark! a shark!" and turning round for an
instant, he sees the monster's horrid jaws wide open
to devour him. In a moment he dives down below
the shark, and taking out a cutlass from his belt, he
thrusts it into the shark's body, once, twice, and
then comes up to the surface to draw breath. Again
the shark opens its huge mouth, and Sandy sees its
great rows of teeth close upon him, when once more

he dives, and plunges his cutlass into the creature
from beneath. When again he comes to the surface
he finds his enemy powerless ; he has dealt him his
death-blow. But there is the Hawk's" boat
almost close upon him-they will have him yet !
Sandy hears their shouts, and the rival cheering
of the man-of-war's men; and sticking his cutlass
into his belt, he again swims as if for his life. The
sea is red with the blood of the monster, but
Sandy heeds it not. With almost exhausted strength
he gains the man-of-war, mounts the rope ladder
which her men have let down for him, and is
dragged on deck by their friendly hands. How the
men cheered when they saw he had killed the shark!
and what loud hurrahs greet him now. Sandy is
quite a hero among them.
The master of the "Hawk" pretended to be very
ill-used, though he well knew that Sandy was only
claiming his rights. However, he had no help for
it, but to return to his ship without the runaway,
who was now taken into the service of King George
III., to fight his majesty's battles on board the Re-
solute." F. W I.

OH, what has Jesus done for me ?
He pities me,-my Saviour.
My sins were great; His love was free;
He died for me,-my Saviour."
Jesus, Saviour, Son of God,
Who for me life's pathway trod,
Who for me became a child,
Make me humble, meek, and mild.
I Thy little lamb would be;
Jesus, I would follow Thee;
Samuel was Thy child of old;
Take me, too, within Thy fold."


"' *- *-- \

IN the old Roman histories we read of serpents that
were one hundred and twenty feet in length. If
they had the same power of rearing themselves up
as those known to us have, when they stood erect
they must have been as high as a church spire But
these old stories are supposed to be incorrect, though

it is believed that serpents yet exist of sixty feet in
length; and serpents much less than this are known
to have crushed bullocks, tigers, and other animals.
The rice-field serpent is sometimes no less than
twenty feet in length, with a girth of eighteen inches.
They are usually shy and timid, and, unless very
ravenous, seldom attack human beings. Mr W. B.
D'Almirda, in his Travels in Java, relates the fol-
lowing anecdote:-
A native, fatigued with his day's work, was
indulging in a nap on a plot of meadow-land. He
had not slept long when he was awoke by a curious
sensation in his right leg. Opening his eyes and
looking down, he beheld to his horror the whole of
his foot and the calf of his leg in the mouth of a huge
serpent! For some moments he remained motionless,
too terrified to make any exertion for his own deliver-
ance, or even to cry out; but finding his leg gradu-
ally disappearing within the jaws of the monster, he
was roused to a sense of his danger, and found voice
to call out loudly for help, at the same time moving
his leg rapidly to and fro in his endeavours to shake
the serpent off. It was now, however, in no mood to
relinquish its prey, and, consequently, when the
poor man's cries had brought several other labourers
to his side, they all tried in vain to draw the huge
reptile off, and were at last compelled to cut it in
two, before it could be made to release its hold.
The man was laid up for some time, his leg, though
not broken, being much bruised.

THE little boy I am going to write about was
happy though he was not able to play, or even to
walk at all. For a year and a half he lay on a little
sofa-bed in the kitchen, unable to move himself.

All those long days and months he was contented
and cheerful, though often suffering great pain.
Shall I tell you what made him so happy? Before
he was ill, when he was a very little boy, he began
to think about the Saviour, to pray to Him, and to
love Him. And Jesus loved him, listened to his
prayers, and blessed him. When illness and pain
came, He helped him to be cheerful and patient.
Gideon was ten years old when he was taken ill.
In the stillness of the night his mother often heard
him saying, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!"
His evening expression often was, "Dear Lord, I
hope to see Thy face before the morning."
Dear child, could you offer such a prayer? Would
you like, when you lay your head on your pillow at
night, to think, "Perhaps I may see Jesus before
the morning ?" If you love Jesus, as Gideon did, you
will lose all fear, and you too will long to go to
The kind Saviour, who loved him, has taken His
little lamb to his heavenly home, to join with
thousands of dear children in singing His praises for
ever. Would you not like to join them when you
die? Then go now and kneel down, and ask Jesus
to teach you to love Him, and He will be sure to
listen to your prayer.
I hope He will spare you many years, that you
may serve Him here, and at last be taken to serve
Him still better in heaven.
Oh! still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
And ask for a share in His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek him below,
I shall see Him and hear Him above.
In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,
For of such is the kingdom of heaven."


11_ _

DID my readers ever see a man-of-war? Some of
our war ships are so large as to resemble floating
towns, and one wonders how such an enormous mass
of iron and wood can be made to ride over the waves.
Very beautiful, too, is the order and regularity with

which everything is done-the men seem to move
by machinery in prompt obedience to orders. Then,
too, every place is so clean and neat, not so much as
a bit of rope or shaving to be seen lying on the care-
fully scrubbed deck. The war ships of our time are
very different, however, from those of the days when
George III. was king. Then, there were no iron-
clads," nor steam frigates, such as are now seen in our
navy. Still there were some noble vessels, which
did good service to their country in the French war.
Sandy's ship, the Resolute," was engaged in
several sea fights; but soon after he went on board
of her she was ordered to Brazil, and for some time
they lay at anchor in the beautiful bay of Rio Janeiro.
In those days the Brazilians were very jealous of
foreigners, and watched our British sailors as if they
had been spies or even robbers.
One day our friend Sandy went ashore with two
or ,three of his comrades. The first thing which
struck him was the great number of images in the
streets at every corner; and in front of many of
the houses were little dolls, about as long as one's
arm, and some of them hideously ugly. No one
ever thought of passing these sacred images without
bowing to them, and the sailors noticed that very
"angry looks were east on them because they passed
by without lifting their hats. As for the slaves,
they were not content with merely bowing, but
would kiss the image again and again, and rub their
faces against it, much after the manner of a house
cat. It was plain that the poor negroes worshipped
these images of the Virgin, just as in Africa they had
bowed down to their own fetishes. Sandy had seen
the Hindoos praying to their idols, and he thought
it made very little difference what you call an image
.if people worshipped it; it matters very little whether
its name is Mary or Juggernaut.
In one street they noticed a wooden cross with an

alms-box attached to it. Sandy could understand
what this was for, though he could not read Portu-
guese. Over the alms-box was a picture representing
two infants-one a black and the other a white one
-in the flames of purgatory, holding up their-little
hands as if imploring the passers-by to drop money
into the box to get them out of purgatory. Sandy
said, if he were a priest he would say masses enough
to bring the poor little things out of misery, whether
he got pay for it or not.
One of the sailors could speak a little Portuguese,
enough to make himself understood, so they went
into a chandler's shop, where were wax candles of
all sizes for burning in the churches; besides these
there were waxen dolls, waxen legs, arms, heads,
ears, eyes, noses, &c. Sandy was as much puzzled
with these as my readers would have been, but Bill,
who spoke Portuguese, told him that people buy
these things and offer them up in churches when
they fancy they have been cured by one of the saints.
Many of the churches have the walls pretty well
garnished with these wax figures, some of them
quite brown from age, others white and new.
In the streets they noticed there were no carts-
everything was carried by slaves. Some of them
were sad-looking spectacles, crippled and deformed
in all kinds of ways with carrying such enormous
burdens; and here and there might be seen a slave
wearing an iron collar, with spikes in it sticking up
under the ears.
Sandy and his companions were just about leaving
the streets to return to their ship when they heard
a flourish of trumpets announcing a religious proces-
sion. They had just time to hide in a narrow
passage, from which they could see all that passed,
and so avoid exciting notice by not bowing with the
rest of the crowd. First of all came the image of
Christ bearing His cross to Calvary. It was as large

as life, and was carried on a platform by six men. A
regiment of soldiers present arms, and receive it with
a flourish of music. Then come a number of little
girls representing angels, splendidly dressed, and
with gauzy butterfly wings, each angel led by a monk.
But here comes another image, much larger than
the other; the platform, too, on which it is carried
is much richer, and is quite dazzling with gold and
silver. This is "our lady" herself. It is quite
usual for her images to be more splendid and more
honoured than those of her Son. The procession
passes on, and see in a moment all the people kneel;
none dare rise till it passes.
Bill explains to his companions that they are
kneeling to the Host, which one of the priest carries
in a silver case.
And what is the Hust ?" one of my readers asks.
Only a bit of bread which the priest pretends to
have changed into the real body of Jesus Christ, and
to this the poor deluded people bow themselves as if
it were really their God.
Sandy, for one, was glad when the show had
passed on; he declared that if he had met it full in
the street he would not have lifted his hat for all
the priests in Brazil. He was soon put to the proof,
for on turning down the next street they were met
by another procession-more images, with music,
soldiers, angels, monks, and priests.
But this time the images were small-mere wooden
dolls, about the length of a man's arm. Bill could
not explain this show to his companions, but they
thought it a ridiculous-looking affair. There were
two big stout priests, each one carrying an image,
much as a little girl carries her doll when she takes
it a walk. Then each priest held up his image, and
they bowed to each other and kissed-I mean the
dolls, not the priests. The British sailors could not
help laughing; perhaps if they had known the

meaning of the thing they might have been more
angry and amazed than amused. One of these dolls
represents the Virgin Mary; she is on her way to
visit her cousin Elisabeth, the mother of John the
Baptist. Elisabeth has heard of her approach, and
comes out to meet her cousin, and so they embrace
each other again and again most lovingly.
Bill was the first to perceive that he and his
comrades were exciting very angry notice. Hats
off! Hats off to our Lady !" had been shouted in
Portuguese, and he had given the alarm to his com-
panions. They tried to pass quietly out of the crowd,
but it was not easy for a party of foreign sailors to
escape without notice. Sandy's hat was knocked off,
and there was a general uproar, which ended in
Sandy and one of his companions being taken into
custody and marched off to prison. They comforted
themselves with the thought that their comrades
would carry the news of their imprisonment to their
captain, and that deliverance was certain. Besides,
Sandy remembered the text which had often comfort-
ed him in his old troubles : It is better, if the will of
God be so, that ye suffer for well-doing, than for evil-
doing." He was quite sure he had done right in not
lifting his hat to an image, so he lay down to sleep
on the floor of the miserably damp, dirty jail, supper-
less indeed, but with a clear conscience.-F. W. I.

NOT mighty deeds make up the sum
Of happiness below;
But little acts of kindness
Which any child may show.
"A merry sound to cheer the babe,
And tell a friend is near;
"A word of ready sympathy,
To dry the childish tear.


A glass of water, timely brought;
An offered easy-chair;
"A turning of the window-blind,
That all may feel the air.
An early flower, unask'd, bestowed;
A light and cautious tread ;
A voice to gentlest whisper hush'd,
To spare the ailing head.
Oh, deeds like these, though little things,
Yet purest love disclose;
As fragrant perfume on the air,
Reveals the hidden rose !
Our heavenly Father loves to see
These precious fruits of love;
And, if we truly serve Him here,
We'll dwell with Him above.

A WANDERER filled his travelling pouch with savoury
meats and fruits, as his way would lead him across
a wide desert. During the first few days he journeyed
through the smiling, fertile fields. But instead of
plucking the fruits which nature here offered for the
refreshment of the traveller, he found it more con-
venient to eat of the provisions which he carried
with him. He soon reached the desert. After
journeying onward for a few days, his whole store
of food was exhausted. He now began to wail and
lament, for nowhere sprouted a blade of grass;
everything was covered with sand. After suffering
for two long days the torments of hunger and of
thirst, he expired.
It was very foolish in him," said a youth, to
forget that he had to cross the desert."
"Do you act more wisely ?" asked the teacher, in
an earnest tone. "You are setting forth on the
journey of life-a journey that leads to eternity.

Now is the time when you should seek after know-
ledge, and collect the treasures of wisdom; but the
labour affrights you, and you prefer to trifle away the
spring-time of your years, amid useless and childish
pleasures. Continue to act thus, and you will yet
upon the journey of life, when wisdom and virtue
fail you, fare like that heedless wanderer.

_- -- -i '

Where there is a will, there is a way."
Two old ladies lived in a cottage alone-alone,

except a little girl who lived with them, an orphan
child, whom God in some way had cast upon their
love and care. They had not much to do with, but
upon that little they contrived to live comfortably.
Their meals perhaps would seem frugal to you, but
they were sweetened with thankfulness, and so tasted
They had nobody in particular to look out for
them in cold winter weather, to split their wood,
shovel their paths, or fetch a bucket of water from
the old well; but, somehow or other, as every day
comes laden with only its own burdens, the minutes
ticked on, shouldering their part, which is a very
small part at a time, you know, and the old ladies
got kindly along. They never worried. They
thought when God brought them to a very rough
plaue, he would help them over; and so He did.
The winter set in early. Snow came before they
were ready. Indeed, who is ever quite ready for
snow but the children? The old man who used to
shovel them out had gone where there is no winter,
and what were they to do ?
In the night a violent snow-storm came on, and
the morning found them blocked up. They were
in their little kitchen getting breakfast, wondering
what they should do, when the strokes of a shovel
fell upon their front-door step. The Lord has
not forgotten us," said Miss Nancy, going to look
out. She saw there a boy hard at work, the son
of a man who had lately moved into the neighbour-
hood. "Father sent me to shovel you out," said
Mike Drew, when Miss Nancy peeped through the
crack of the door. Oh, thank you," cried Miss
Nancy. When you've done, step in, and we'll
try and settle with you." "Father don't want no
Spay; no more do I," said Mike. After every snow-
storm Mike came and shovelled them out, clearing
a path for little Mary to go to school; nor would lie

take a cent of pay for his labour. No, no," he
said, I like to do it."-Child's Paper.

SARAH was a self-willed, boisterous, headstrong
child, and had given her parents more trouble and
anxiety than all the rest of the children put together.
She was never willing to give up to her sisters, and
was always dictating to her brothers. If they agreed
with her, it was fair weather; if opposed to her, it
was stormy, and sometimes very stormy. Her
mother often had to send her out of the room, or
put her to bed; but punishment, reproof, or letting
her alone, were alike in vain. Like a November
rain on the garden, they failed to call out any lovely
blossoms of amendment in the soil of her heart. ,
That Sarah !" people called her. Good traits
she had, but they were thrown into the shade by her
self-will. When her father used to take her aside
and talk kindly with her about her faults, she would
seem sorry, and promise to do better; but the next
day all the promises appeared to be only like the
morning dew. All! she was a grief to her excellent
One day when her mother was making bread in
the store-room, Sarah came in, and stood looking on
for some time. Her mother talked with her, show-
ing that she did not consider little girls in the way.
Sarah said little; but when she went out she kissed
her mother's arm. It was quite a new and unex-
pected act, and it sent a thrill through the mother's
The next morning she asked, "Mother, can't I
help you in something?" For some days mother
felt there was something different in her little girl;
she was less noisy, and she was kinder to the other
children. Mrs Ellis was sitting alone one evening

in the sitting-room, when Sarah came in. She held
out her hand to her daughter, who took it, and
dropping on a stool by her mother's side, laid her
head on Mrs Ellis' lap.
Mother," said she in a low tone, I am afraid
I have been a very naughty daughter to you and
If so to us, my dear child, how much more so
to your heavenly Father and the dear Redeemer who
shed His blood for you," said Mrs Ellis.
Oh, I know it, I know it," cried Sarah, sob-
bing on her mother's knee, "and I feel so bad."
What thankfulness took possession of that pious
mother's heart; for what her corrections and con-
versations had failed to do, what her father's love
and care failed to effect on the stony heart of their
little girl, the Holy Spirit was doing in His own
blessed way. He had come down from heaven and
convicted her of sin-that is the Holy Spirit's special
work-and melted her heart into penitence and
"Dear child," said Mrs Ellis feelingly, "Christ
can wash all your sins away in his blood."
"I know it, mother. I know he can take away
my proud, stubborn heart, and give me a willing
heart. Mother, will you pray for me?" Mrs Ellis
and Sarah went up stairs to a small room where she
often retired for secret prayer. Indeed, it was this
Christian mother's "closet," which the Redeemer
tells his disciples to go into, and shut the door and
They knelt down together. Mrs Ellis prayed for
God's forgiveness for her child, and that a new heart
might be given her, cleansed by the blood of the
Saviour-an humble, obedient, and loving heart,
pleasing to God.
Then little Sarah prayed, and her broken prayer,
I am sure, God heard from His holy throne, for it

breathed a contrite spirit, which God will never
The next day how tender and loving she was, and
the next, and the next, showing that she was follow-
ing the Holy Spirit, who so gently led her. This
was a year ago; and ever since Sarah has been a
dutiful and loving Christian child. H. C. K.

A FAIR little girl sat under a tree,
Sewing as long as her eyes could see;
Then smoothed her work and folded it right,
And said, Dear work good night good night "
Such a number of rooks came over her head,
Crying, Caw caw !" on their way to bed;
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
"Little black things I good night I good night "
The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed :
The sheep's Bleat, bleat !" came over the road:
All seeming to say with a quiet delight,
" Good little girl good night! good night "
She did not say to the sun, Good night "
Though she saw him there like a ball of light;
For she knew he had God's time to keep
All over the world, and never could sleep.
The tall pink foxglove bowed his head;
The violet courtesied and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
And said, on her knees, her favourite prayer.
And while on her pillow she softly lay,
She knew nothing more till again it was day;
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
" Good morning! good morning our work is begun."


,, 51f

"WHAT a pity but this poor ragged boy hnad been
taught by his parents to work instead of to beg his
bread front door to door.
A gentleman was once accosted by a street beggar,
and asked in a whining tone, for a few pence to get
himself a night's lodging." Very unwisely, the
gentleman gave him a piece of money, at the same
time very wisely saying to him, It is better to work
than to beg."
The beggar, who was in the manhood of his days,
took the money and the hint too, and as soon as he
could find a job he secured it, and earned five shil-
lings. With this he bought all the old rags he
could, and carried them to the paper-mill, and his
five shillings' worth of rags brought him six shillings
and sixpence. Finding this a good business, he fol-

lowed it until he had a rag-shop of his own. From
this he crept up to be a manufacturer of paper, then
an extensive bookseller, and I ili. a man of large
wealth, and with a benevolent will to do good with
his money. He tells all his neighbours and friends
that he knows that it is far better to work than to

" I NEVER can learn to write in the world, mother,"
said Freddie Cross one day, as he laid aside his pen
and lifted his face from a paper covered with blots
and scratches. "My hand shakes, and I can't re-
member to dot my i's and cross my t's, and I keep
getting off the line all the time."
"Try on," said Mrs Cross, encouragingly.
"Besides that," continued Freddie, more :I.ii
than ever, what good does it do a man to be such
a splendid writer, and make splendid figures ?"
A great deal of good," said his mother. You
are not a man yet, Fred. As a general rule, little
boys should believe that what their parents say is
true, but at this time I have something in my mind
which I will tell you, and it may help to give you
more confidence in me."
But is it a true story ?" asked Freddie.
Yes, a real, true story I am about to tell you,"
said she, "of what really happened. Away down
in New Jersey, where there are numerous pine
forests, there lived a man who kept a mill to make
the wood into lumber. He had a clerk in his busi-
ness who after a while had to leave. Now, away
back in the woods there lived a little boy who had
some time ago written his name on a card for the
gentleman who owned the mill. When the clerk
left, the mill-man remembered that the boy who
wrote on the card signed his name very well, so he

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