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The Baldwin Library
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WI TH ILL US TRA TIONS.
THOMAS NELSON & SONS,
42, BLEECKER STREET.
HESE two boys whom you see standing on the
deck of a vessel about to sail for Canada
were rescued by a kind-hearted gentleman
from the streets of London. One of them had no
GOOD BYE "
father nor mother to care for him; the other had run
away from home to pick up a living the best way he
could; and so both of them were regular street-arabs.
The gentleman you see saying good-bye" to them
got one of them to attend a ragged-school, of which he
was the teacher, and finding that he was a sharp boy,
though very ignorant, he took great pains to instruct
him, and also found a place for him to live in. After a
time, the poor boy not liking the restraints he was under,
ran away, and was soon plunged into the lowest depths
of want and misery. The gentleman, who pitied him
very much, promised the other boy a sovereign if he
could find out where he was.
After about two months, the other boy found him,
on a sharp, frosty, winter night, sleeping behind a
hoarding on the Thames' Embankment, and almost dead
with cold and hunger. He brought the gentleman to
the place, and he was just in time to save him from
dying, though not from having a very long and severe
About a year after this, the two lads were got into
the employment of a farmer in the country, and having
learned something of the work, their passage was paid*
for them to Canada, and there they are on the deck of
the good ship Scotia, bidding "adieu" to the kind
friend who has taken such an interest in their welfare.
There is good reason to hope that both the lads had
given their hearts to Jesus before they sailed from the
THE FACTORY CHIMNEY.
shores of England. The young reader will join with
the writer in wishing for both of them long and useful
and happy lives in Canada. Perhaps, when you grow
up to manhood, you may help in the good work in
which this gentleman was engaged. It is now a great
joy to him to think of these two youths, who are going
on prosperously in the land of their adoption.
THE FACTORY CHIMNEY.
LARGE new factory was just completed.
A great crowd was collected around it,
and all eyes were turned to the tall chim-
ney. What was the matter ? What caused
S those anxious faces, and those sounds of
alarm and pity? The chimney was
"finished; the scaffold was taken down;
the workmen had descended, all but one,
whom it was needful to leave till all was removed; when
it was discovered that they had forgotten to leave
behind the rope, by which this poor man was to slide
down. What could be done ? He had no other means
of descent, and nothing could be thrown up to him at
that immense height. It seemed as if he must stay
there and die.
When, lo, a voice was heard above all the other cries
and shouts that came from the crowd below! It was
THE FACTORY CHIMNEY.
from the wife of the poor man, who, frantic with alarm,
and overwhelmed at the thought of her husband's
danger, with a voice scarcely human, and no doubt
strengthened by the urgency of the case, held up her
arms, and exclaimed, Pull off thy stocking, and unravel
it, and let it down "
Happily, her voice, aided by her signs, succeeded.
The poor fellow was seen taking off his stocking, and
unravelling it, and soon it reached the ground. They
then contrived to attach to it a cord, which was con-
veyed to the top of the chimney. By the cord a rope
was taken up ; and thus the poor man soon got down in
safety, amidst the shouts and rejoicings of the assembled
One almost trembles while contemplating such a
scene And now there is not a man, woman, or child,
who does not stand in as great and pressing a danger,
and who is not equally confined to one way of escape.
As fallen sinners, we are cut off from all chance of
escape but one. Oh have you felt your danger P-do
you, indeed, realize it? The anguish of a soul that
really discovers where sin has placed it will be as keen
as that of this poor man, when every refuge seemed to
fail him; and the joy of him who has found Jesus to
be the Way, the Truth, and the Life, cannot be surpassed
by the joy of him who finds himself safe from his
perilous condition in the bosom of his family.
THE GREY PARROT.
OW, mamma, you have not forgotten your
promise, have you'?" asked Ellen Knight,
j one fine sunny morning.
THE GREY PARROT.
What promise, my dear ?"
"Why, don't you remember? You said you would
come with Fred and me to-day, to see Widow Blake's
"Very well ; we will go at once, Ellen, if you will
find Fred, and get your things on."
Whilst they are getting ready for their walk, I may
inform you that Widow Blake has a sailor son who has
just been paying her a short visit, between his voyage
home and his voyage out again to Australia. Poor
fellow! He can't stay with his mother so long as he
would like, so he has left his favourite bird, Pretty
Poll," to be his representative. Rather a poor one, his
mother says; but still she is glad of even it, and you might
tell from the bird's smooth glossy wings, and bright
eyes, that Jack's instructions as to the daily management
of Poll are carefully carried out.
He is so clever, mamma," was Ellen's remark to her
mother, as they were walking to Widow Blake's cottage;
" I really think he knows what he is saying, and means
it; but you will soon hear and see for yourself."
"Oh, yes; he knows quite well," struck in Fred;
"you can tell that by the way he cocks his head."
They got there just as Mrs. Blake was putting the
bird outside her window to get the benefit of the fresh
air and sunshine. The bird turned its head round
slowly, and then remarked,-
"Well; here's a fine day !" Then he fixed his eyes
THE GREY PARROT.
on his visitors, and said, Shiver my timbers, who's
"Good morning, Polly ; how are you ?" said Ellen.
"How's herself, old boy ?" replied the bird, much to
the amusement of the children.
Ah," said Mrs. Knight, "you see he doesn't quite
understand the words he uses, after all."
"What's o'clock? what's o'clock screamed the
Half-past ten, Polly," said Fred.
Reef maintop-sails; loose foresheets. Hulloa,
bo'sun'. Ay, ay, sir ;" and so the bird rattled on for
almost half an hour.
"He's in wonderful good spirits this morning, mum,"
said Mrs. Blake; he likes to have notice taken of him."
He is a very fine bird," said Mrs. Knight. How is
He has to sail from Liverpool this morning, mum,"
replied the widow, rather sadly. "Ah! I wish he
weren't a sailor, and could stay at home with his poor
"1 I dare say you do; but you know that he is safe so
long as He watches over him, Who has brought him
through many dangers before."
"Yes, indeed, mum, that's my best comfort. Won't
you please to walk in and rest for a little ?"
No, thank you; we must go back and get some work
done before dinner-time, I think, Mrs. Blake."
WHAT THE MINUTES SAY.
So Ellen and Fred had to bid their feathered friend
"good-bye," and turn their steps home again.
He's not such a pretty bird as Mary Cubitt's, is he,
mamma? but hers can do nothing but scream, although
it is red and green and blue, instead of grey."
Yes, my dear; and I hope you thus see how much
better it is to have modest attire and useful attainments,
than to be gaily clothed and want them."
WHAT THE MINUTES SAY.
Years are made up of months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes.
Let us suppose those minutes to be speaking to us in words like
E are but minutes, little things,
Each one furnished with sixty wings,
With which we fly on our unseen track,
And not a minute ever comes back.
We are but minutes; each one bears
A little burden of joys and cares:
Take patiently the minutes of pain,
The worst of minutes cannot remain.
We are but minutes ; when we bring
A few of the drops from pleasure's spring,
Taste their sweetness while yet you may,
It takes but a minute to fly away.
We are but minutes, use us well,
For how we are used we must one day tell;
Who uses minutes has hours to use,
Who loses minutes whole years must lose."
AN ANIMAL THAT HAS SEEN BETTER DAYS.
r^ WISH some one would write a book about
the ass, and show us how he became so
degenerated, and when he first got into
Everybody knows he was an animal of
great importance once, and in the East, at
the present day, he is ridden by nobles, and
is well cared for. Ah! you say, he must be
a very different animal from our poor ass. Of course
he is; there, he is really an elegant animal, full of
spirit and of good action; his coat is smooth, and his
AN ANIMAL THAT HAS SEEN BETTER DAYS.
pace is rapid. But this only proves our point. It is
not because he is dull and stupid that he is ill-cared
for; but it is because he is badly treated, that he is Lhe
poor, slow, heavy brute we find him.
I remember a friend drawing attention to a verse in
the Bible, which proved how different was his nature
then and now.
In Proverbs xxvi. and 3rd, it says, "A whip for the
horse, a bridle for the ass, and a rod for the fool's back,"
as if in those days it was the horse who wanted urging,
and the ass that required to be held in. How different
now! Not only does the ass feel the whip, but the
cudgel, rope's end, or anything that comes to hand, and
often the foot too.
The fact is, the poor donkey is not well able to
defend himself; and perhaps this is because it was
never contemplated that he would be so ill-used. It
was natural for him to expect the stings of insects and
the pricks of brambles, and so he is covered with a
thick coating of hair. It was likely he would come
across the nettles and such things in his quest for food,
and so his mouth has been made nettle-proof; but it
was never to be expected that a patient, useful, willing,
hard-working brute should be an Ishmael among animals,
with every man's hand against him, and so he is not
furnished with any formidable means of defence.
T was Lizzie Grey's birthday,-a beautiful
sunshiny, June day,-and her Uncle John
had sent her a present all the way from
London. What do you think it was ? Why,.
a pretty, bright, silver thimble, to show that he wanted
her to be a good needle-woman. Lizzie's only trouble
was that her beautiful thimble was too large. But her
mother told her that her finger would soon grow bigger.
"And by that time," she said, I hope you will have
grown more careful; for now, you know, you often lose
your things. So you must use your brass thimble for a
little while longer."
But Lizzie was anxious to show her treasure to her
schoolfellows, for no one of them had such a nice
thimble as hers. So she said, Oh, mother, I am now
twelve years old ; surely I can take care of such a little
thing as that! Do let me take it to school. If I put
some paper in, it will stick on my finger quite well."
"It would not be very safe," said Mrs. Grey; "and I
am sure you would be sorry to lose it. You had better
let me take care of it for you."
But Lizzie pouted, and seemed so bent on having her
own way, that at last her mother said she might take it
to school just for one day. But don't take it out of
your pocket till you get there. If you drop it in the
hay-fields, you will never see it again."
When Lizzie got near the school, she found she was
too early. So she sat down to rest under a tree on the
sloping bank of the river. Of course her thoughts were
about her new thimble, and she wished her mother had
not forbidden her to take it out.
"After all, it is mine," she said, "to do what I like
LIZZIE S THIMBLE.
with." So out it came, and soon Lizzie had fitted it on
to her finger, and was pretending to sew.
But she was not happy, for she knew she was doing
wrong; and so it happened that when a little brown
squirrel, with bright eyes and feathery tail, began to
think of his morning walk, and came out of his leafy
nest overhead, the rustling he made so startled the little
girl that her thimble was jerked off her finger, and fell
with a splash into the river.
Lizzie was soon at the water's edge, and she found
that her arms were not long enough to reach to the
bottom of the water. So she got a long branch that
was lying near, and tried to push about the pebbles with
it, but no trace of the thimble could be seen. While
she was so employed, she heard the school-bell ring, and
knew that she would be late for school.
So she had to run off immediately, and got to school
with a wet, dirty frock, just in time to find the door
There were thus quite a number of troubles for poor
Lizzie in one day Her mother and her teacher displeased,
her thimble gone, her place in the class lost, her nice
frock spoiled, and a bad mark given to her besides. I
hope it will teach her to take her mother's advice
another time, instead of insisting on having her own
SABBATH AFTERNOON WITH MAMMA.
JESUS ON THE SEA-SHORE.
PA ,AMMA.-We have now come to the last
time when Jesus and His disciples met
S on the shores of the sea of Galilee.
1 We have an account of this meeting in
SJohn xxi. You may read the chapter before
we go on.
"Fanny.-I thought that the disciples had left their
nets and fishing-boats when Jesus called them to follow
M.-So they did ; and we always read of them after-
wards, either as with their Lord, or as going on errands on
which they were sent by Him. But the chapter you
have read refers to the time after Jesus had been
crucified. Where did He promise to meet with His
disciples after He was risen from the dead?
F.-On a mountain in Galilee which He had appoint-
M.-After the crucifixion, the disciples left Jerusalem
and went into Galilee, waiting for the promised meeting
with their Lord. While thus waiting, they, it is sup-
posed, partly from necessity, partly for occupation, re-
turned to their former way of life.
F.-Was there anything wonderful in the appearance
of Jesus on this occasion; why did they not know
Him at once ?
M.-You must remember that they were some
SABBATH AFTERNOON WITH MAMMA.
distance out at sea, and it was as yet but the dawn of
day, so that they could not see distinctly. But I dare
say you remember another time, when it is said of His
disciples, "Their eyes were holden that they should
not know Him."
F.-That was the two disciples going to Emmaus.
It is very beautiful to see Jesus, even after He had
risen from the dead, watching over and caring for His
M.-You see His loving thoughtfulness in the
question He asks: "Children, have ye any meat?"
Still they do not recognize Him, but answer briefly,
F.-No sooner had they cast the net on the right
side, and inclosed the fishes, than John knew who the
M.-It is said that love is quicksighted; and John,
being the disciple specially loved by Jesus, and loving
Him much in return, it is not to be wondered at that
he was the first to discover his Master.
F.-But Peter showed his love more than John did,
by his impatience to be near Jesus.
M.-We cannot judge by outward acts: the Lord
looketh upon the heart," and knows all that passes
within. When they got to shore, dragging their net,
they found a fire of coals burning. The scene is alto-
gether wonderful; we do not know who made this
fire, and found the provisions that were on it.
SABBATH AFTERNOON WITH MAMMA.
F.-Do you not think, mamma, that the disciples
seem to have been rather afraid of Jesus ?
M.-Yes; it is evident there was now a great awe
upon them in His presence. Even when Jesus said,
" Come and dine," they hesitated ; and it was not till
He had taken the bread and the fish, and given of them
to the disciples, that they began their repast.
F.-Do you think Jesus dined with them ?
M.-It is not said that He did, and we have no
account of anything that was said at that wonderful
F.-It was not till after they had finished that Jesus
spoke to Peter, and asked him three times the same
M.-Peter had three times denied his Lord, and here
he is made three times to confess his love to Him.
In closing, I wish you to notice that the charge which
Jesus gives to Peter has a distinct reference to chil-
F.-Yes, mamma; He said, Feed my lambs;" and
He cares for His lambs still-does He not ?
M.-Yes; there is everything in the blessed Saviour
to attract and encourage children to seek His favour.
See to it, dear Fanny, that you yield your heart to Him,
and thus become one of the lambs of His fold.
OW many of my young friends, I wonder, as
they read their Bibles, ever think of the
labour and time that have been spent in order
that they may be able to do so with such ease and
THE CHAINED BIBLE,
comfort ? What a wonderful amount of learning and
diligence it must require in order to translate the Bible,
right through, from Hebrew and Greek into English!
And yet, this had been done over and over again before
King James' tran-slatonr were able to present the English
nation with the version which we now use. No doubt
many of you are aware that, at the present time, a
number of good and wise men are trying to make that
translation still more perfect and useful.
But I am not going to speak to you just now of either
of these editions, but rather of one which was brought
out in King Henry the Eighth's reign. I dare say that
cruel monarch is no greater favourite with you than
with me; but, in spite of all his wickedness, he was wise
enough to feel that the Bible was a good book, and he
thought that, if he could get his people to read it, they
would soon become better subjects, and so increase the
strength of his kingdom. He knew, too, that their
reading the Bible would make them wish to throw off
the dominion of the Pope of Rome, from whose yoke
Henry then desired to be free. Surely this testimony
in honour of God's Word, which was borne by a bad man,
ought to be remembered and considered by us.
Well, after what I have told you, you will not be sur-
prised to hear that several translations of the Bible were
made in King Henry's reign. At first he was opposed
to this good work, but afterwards he took a great in-
terest in it. When one of these translations was printed,
he commanded that a copy of it should be placed in
THE CHAINED BIBLE,
every parish church in England, and chained there to
keep it safely, so that any one who could read, however
poor, might read and study it for himself. If any parish
neglected to obey this order, the authorities in it were
heavily fined; so, throughout the land, the Bible was
placed within reach of all, and in every church might
be seen a group of people reading it, such as that
which you see in our picture. Only a few of the richest
people could afford to buy a Bible in those days, so the
large copy chained in the parish church was highly
prized. For a long time, at all hours of the day some
one would be reading it, and generally aloud, for the
sake of others gathered round him-the young and the
old, the sick and the lame and the ignorant.
By this means great good was done,-a great deal
more than the king had ever thought of or intended.
Seed was sown which Queen Mary was not able to root
up ; and doubtless many a martyr was prepared by what
he then learnt of God's word, to suffer patiently the
persecution which afterwards assailed him.
How well may we, in these days, feel ashamed, as we
think of those who lived in the time of King Henry
"VIII.! How easy it is for any of us to get hold of a
Bible ; how few there are who do not possess at least
one copy of their own! But, my young friends, this is
not enough. If we are to obtain a blessing from our
Bibles, we too must be earnest and constant in using
them, as were those of whom I have been telling you.
POOR old man sat down to eat
A little bit of bread and meat
As Georgy Wright came up the street.
His clothes were torn, his head was bare,
The wind-it blew his long white hair,
As cold and friendless he sat there.
Poor man !" said Georgy with a sigh,
I feel that I could almost cry,
You look so thin; I fear you'll die."
The old man raised his head to hear
Kind words that thrilled his heart and ear;
But down his cheek there rolled a tear.
"Alas he said, if I could see
The gentle boy that speaks to me,
How very happy I should be !
For dark to me the world has been,
And I have never, never seen
A tree, or flower, or meadow green.
How often have I wished to view
My mother's face; the skies of blue;
And now I long to look on you."
Poor man," said Georgy Wright, don't cry,
But pray to God that when you die,
Your soul may go to Him on high.
There you will see, without a tear,
Far better things than we do here,
And, oh perhaps your mother dear."
The winning words of this dear child
Such comfort gave, the old man smiled,
And felt his heavy grief beguiled.
HOUGH some people dislike spiders very
much, because they make walls and
ceilings look untidy by spinning their
webs upon them-and a few persons, too,
are so foolish as to be afraid to see or to
touch one-there is a great deal that is
curious about their doings, as well as about the spiders
themselves. Thus, if we look at the different sorts of
spiders' webs we see about, in-doors, or out of doors, we
shall find that these are made in a very clever way, and
just suited to what the spider wants to catch, or the
place where he or she has to spin and fix it. You see, I
have just called a spider 'he,' though most people say
'she;' and, indeed, both are right, for gentlemen-spiders
as well as lady-spiders spin webs. Perhaps one might
expect the lady-spiders to spin the neatest webs, but I
don't think tiat is the case. Certainly they make their
webs rather larger, yet this is because they are larger
themselves, and not because they are more clever.
I have noticed another thing: most of the webs we see
about in public places are the work of lady-spiders, while
the gentlemen prefer somehow to get into out-of-the-
way corners, or small nooks. And it may be, that the
reason of this is, that they wish to keep away, as much
as they can, from their larger companions; for, I am
sorry to say, that when very short of food, a lady-spider
has been known to seize hold of a smaller spider, who
was walking past her web, pull him in, and then -eat
But we were, just now, going to speak of the different
kinds of webs. I suppose the webs which those spiders
make which live in dark cellars are perhaps the most
unpleasant looking; for they are often of coarse thread,
and made dark in colour with smoke and dust. Why
do spiders spin themselves webs in such places ? for
flies and moths are seldom to be caught in corners where
light hardly ever comes. Well, it seems that these webs in
cellars and closets are rather meant for homes, than used
as traps. Now and then some insect may get entangled in
one, but the spiders go out to hunt for food, and don't de-
pend for their living on what might come to them.
Whether they bring home what they catch is not certain;
I should think not. Also, I have noticed that those webs in
dark corners are not always to be found with the same
spider in it, when there iaippCns to be one at home, so that
they are not so particular about each keeping to its own
web, as the garden-spii'Lcrs are. The garden-spiders are
so careful about this, that if you take one from its web,
and carry it some distance, and put it into an empty
web, it will not remain, but, if it cannot get back to its
own web, sets to work to make a new one.
In our gardens we have, at the beginning of the sum-
mer, webs which are quite small, and, by-and-by, as the
spiders grow, the webs increase in size, yet they are
always made in the same regular way: a number of
circles or wheels, which have tiire ads running across
them, from the outside of the web to the centre. Very
often the spider sits in the centre, so that it can at once
find out when anything has got caught.
Now and then, however, it chooses to sit under the
shade of a leaf near, or in some corner of a wall or paling;
but, wherever it may be, there is always a thread run-
ning from the web to this retreat, by which the spider
can tell if visitorI come ; and tli f e have reason after-
wards to wish that they had stayed away These gar-
den webs are usually swung by what are called cables '
of silk, so that while the net is kept pretty free, it is not
in much danger of being torn by the wind. Once in
THE ROSES HAVE FADED.
every day, the garden spiders make some alteration in
their webs,-perhaps doubling a thread in one part or in
another, pulling out an old thread, and putting in a new
one, or filling up some hole which they see-or feel, for
spiders do more by feeling than by sight.
The house-spider is not so fond of patching up its
web, and may be seen sitting on the watch in a web
which is not at all a credit to it. These in-door webs
are woven in a different way. The threads of silk are
laid closer to each other, and crossed and crossed again
until the web looks like fine gauze. Instead of being
round or roundish, they are of various shapes. We find
that all spiders are very careful not to waste their silk,
because they have only a certain stock of it, and so they
preserve and roll up neatly the loose threads they cut off
The largest and most curiously made spiders' webs are
those we find on the hedges and in commons. On a fine
dewy morning, they sparkle beautifully with the drops
which are scattered over them, and they look very pretty
too, in a rime frost. All about these webs the spiders
put a number of loose threads, which insects flying along
strike against, and fall into the snare underneath.
THE ROSES HAVE FADED.
HE roses have faded,
O sweet sister May!
The beautiful roses
Have withered away
THE IOSES HAVE FADED
I searched long this morning
In each garden bed,
But found them all lying
There, yellow and dead.
I sat down beside them
And bitterly cried,
To think my loved roses
Had faded and died.
O why should they perilh,
Why sink to decay,
So fragrant and beautiful,
Sweet sister May?
Because, Bessie darling,
Fair summer has gone,
And without her sweet prlcst rce
They cannot live on;
Their work having finished
God gave them to do,
He bade them lie down
With the passed summer too.
Weep not, little darling,
They'll come back again;
When winter has fled
With the frosts, snow and rain,
And summer trips out
With her tresses of gold,
The sweet, blooming roses
Again you'll behold.
And you, like the roses,
Must soon fade and die;
In the cold, quiet grave
Must soon slumbering lie;
But to waken again
On that radiant shore
Where the summer roses
Will bloom evermore. Annie Howe.
ERE is another of the now engravings from
the two-penny edition of "The Life of
Christ published by the Book Society. It
shows our Saviour at Jacob's well, conversing with the
woman of Samaria. The following extract will interest
our little readers.
THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA.
Having to pass through Samaria, Jesus came to
Jacob's well, on which, weary with journeying, IIe
rested Himself, while His disciples went into the city to
buy provisions. While sitting thus on the well, a
woman came with her pitcher to fetch water, to whom
our Lord said : 'Give me to drink.' The woman was
astonished at the application, knowing Jesus to be a
Jew, and knowing also the contempt in which the Jews
too generally held her countrymen. She knew not that
He was the Son of God, full of grace and truth, divested
of every human prejudice, and the very essence of love
"Jesus, however, was not repelled either by the reply
of this poor wanderer, or by His knowledge of the dark
and sad secret of her life. He now tried to awaken
her mind, telling her that had she known who He was
she would not only have given what He asked, but
sought from Him that 'living water' which He had
come to bestow. Those who drank merely at earthly
springs of happiness would thirst again'; the deeper
wants of their nature would remain unsatisfied; but
'whosoever drank of this living water would never
thirst; it would become in such a perennial fountain,
springing up and flowing on into everlasting life.'
Some think it was from a disposition to ridicule our
Lord that the woman now said, Sir, give me this water,
that I thirst not, neither come hither to draw ; but it is
more likely that there had now been awakened in her
some sense of her deep spiritual need. However this
THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA.
may be, Jesus at once proceeded to grant her request.
This He did by reminding her of her wicked life;
making her feel that He knew it; and thus waking up
her conscience, and stirring in her a painful sense of
guilt and sinfulness before God.
"(' Sir,' said she, overwhelmed by this discovery of her
character, 'I perceive that Thou art a prophet.' She
now submits to this Stranger who can read so well the
secrets of her heart, the great question debated between
her people and the Jews : Where should men worship ?
Is it at this mountain in Samaria, or in Jerusalem?'
Jesus tells her that there should not henceforth be any
one particular place for worship ; the question of place
was insignificant; it was not the place, but the spirit of
our worship that was important: God is a spirit, and
they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and
in truth.' The woman now referred to her expectation
of the coming of the Messiah when, without hesitation,
Jesus replied, I that speak unto thee am He.'"
LETTER FROM A WASP.
EAR CHILDREN,-- I write to tell you of a
S deed which deprived me at once of home
and friends, and which has grieved me so
Much that I look forward to death with
pleasure, though I know that, unlike you, with death
ends my existence.
Returning to my nest one evening towards the close
of summer, after flitting about all the afternoon among
the flowers, I saw it surrounded by some of the human
race, those who might be our best friends, but are, as I
shall show, our greatest enemies. Wishing to see what
they would do, I hovered above. It so happened, that
night, that there was a great deal of business on hand,
and many of our number were flying to and fro, before
going home. The party seeing this, threw something
in amongst them, which, being lit, blazed up, burning
and suffocating my unlucky comrades who were about.
This caused me great grief; but picture to yourselves
my horror, when I saw our foes light some of this same
black stuff, and put it into the hole itself, leading to our
LETTER FROM A WASP.
nest, at the same time putting a sod over the hole, the
more completely to do their deed of death. I must con-
fess that I, being a wasp, was pleased to see some of my
more fortunate companions who e. caped, flying about,
and stinging our foes, who were running to and fro,
waving their handkerchiefs to keep them off ; but with
many of them, this was vain.
When we had, forbearing creatures as we are, let
them alone, one gentleman who had a very dignified
appearance, took a spade, and dug up the nest, in which
were my fellow-wasps, completely stupified; and,-I
shudder as I write it,-made some little boys who were
about, stamp on them and kill them by hundreds,-ay,
by thousands. Had they but left me my queen, I would
loyally have toiled for her till life was extinct ; but no !
for I heard their cries of cruel joy.
"Here's the queen; just see what a big one she is !"
And now, out of twenty or thirty thousand living
creatures, only I myself and about a dozen or so more
remain, wandering about, desolate and forlorn; and
there appears now to be no prospect for us but that of
But, though members of the human race kill us, who
of them, with all their wisdom and power, could create
even a single one of us creature. which they think so
mean and worthless ? Mean and worthless, indeed!
Show me any man who will work so hard as we wasps
do continually; show me any building raised by man,
LETTER FROM A WASP.
which displays more skill and art than may be seen in
our nests; show me a man, or a child, who will display
such filial affection and obedience; who will be so
generous in imparting to his friends anything he may
become poses.sedl of; who is brave and forbearing as
we wasps are, who only sting and defend ourselves
when attacked, and who for the common good fly at any
one, determined to conquer or die. Why, there is a
class of us in some place or other,-South America, I
believe,-who make honey, like the bees that are so be-
loved by mankind.
May I hope that you will reflect upon these things,
and never be guilty of cruelty such as I have related,
especially to a race from which you may learn so many
good qualities, and of which I am an humble member.
THE END ABEY
THE RUINED ABBEY.
OT very long ago I went with some friends
S to visit a ruined Abbey, near to which we
were staying. After riding a few miles
we came in sight f its crumbling walls,
and were not long in alighting beneath them. The first
thing which we did was to walk right round the Abbey,
and view it from the outside. The Chapel was by far the
finest part left standing, but the top of the largest
window, looking towards the east, was broken away,
and only the outer frame-work of the others remained.
But the ivy clustered thickly over and around the
arches, as if it would comfort the venerable ruin, while,
if the truth were told, it was really, all the while, dig-
ging its roots into every little crevice, and so bringing
on all the faster the time when the remaining walls
must fall. So you see we must beware of those who
profess to be our friends, and yet, meanwhile, are only
working us mischief.
On entering the Abbey we saw, at the foot of a high
tower, a little narrow door, inside which all was dark
and dismal. Perhaps it was a dungeon in which the
monks had confined those who read the Bible, or it may
have been the entrance to a passage underground, which
was said to stretch for many miles to an old castle
which I had seen a day or two before.
In the chapel I lingered behind the rest of my friends,
and tried to fancy what the Abbey must have been like
in days long gone by; for it had been built many hundreds
THE RUINED ABBEY.
of years ago. I shut my eyes, and thought I heard the
bell ringing out from the tower, calling those around to
prayers. The sound then died away, and I heard instead
the sweet notes of the organ. The monks in black came
trooping in, headed by the abbot himself in his more
showy robes. The incense rose in clouds, the anthem
was chanted, the Latin prayers were mumbled through,
but in the midst of my musings my name was called,
and I had to hasten away after my friends.
Now, let us ask ourselves why all this magnificence
and grandeur has passed away, so that no one now takes
the trouble to drive away the cattle that graze beside
the abbey walls, and sometimes find their way for
shelter even into the chapel. My young friends, you ;
do not need to be told that the religion of those who
built and who lived in the Abbey, was false, and coni-
trary to the Word of God, and that therefore it could
not but lose its power and die. It once was powerful,
stronger than any other power, holding this land, and
other lands as well, in servitude under its yoke. But it
had not sufficient truth and goodness within it to main-
tain its influence. Time, little by little, like the ivy on
the abbey walls, weakened it, till at last it was over-
My little readers, if we do not wish our history
to be like that of this Abbey, we must seek to put away
from us everything that is false, and ask the Spirit of
God to teach us and guide us unto all truth.
SABBATH AFTERNOON WITH MAMMA,
J TTHE SMITTEN ROOK.
i'"4 IANNY.-I have found another type of
Christ, Mamma. In reading in 1st Cor-
inthians, I came to a verse which says,
They drank of that spiritual rock which folb
S lowed them, and that rock was Christ."
S fnMamma.-You have chosen a very good sub-
ject for to-day, and it comes well after that of the
manna, which we spoke of lately. Where do you
read about the Rock to which Paul alludes in the
passage you have repeated ?
F.-In the 17th of Exodus we are told that the
People murmured against Moses because they had no
water. And Moses cried to God and asked what he
should do. Then God said to him, Go on before the
people, and take with thee of the elders of Israel; and
thy rod wherewith thou smotest the river, take in thine
hand. Behold, I will stand before thee there, upon the
rock in Horeb, and thou shalt smite the rock, and there
shall come water out of it, that the people may drink.
And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel."
M.-Here we see another trial of the faith of Moses.
Two millions of people are said to have been brought
out of Egypt by him. How terrible the thought that
there was no water for so great a multitude And it
was needed for their flocks and herds as well. Do you
SABBATH AFTERNOON WITH MAMMA,
observe what God says about the rod that Moses was to
take ? And why do you think He reminds him of the past ?
F.-God said, Take the rod wlh:rwilh thou smotest
the river." I suppose God said this to remind him of
the wonders done by means of the rod.
M.-Yes; and so to strengthen his faith in what God
was able to do for His people. Now, can we find in
what this event resembles Christ and His salvation ?
F.-The smiting of the rock was like the crucifying
of Jesus was it not, Mamma ?
M21.-It was. The prophet says, We did esteem Him
(the Messiah) stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted."
For what purpose was Jesus thus stricken and afflicted ?
F.-That God might be able to pardon all who repent
and believe the Gospel. This is what is meant by
taking of the water of life freely," I suppose.
M1.-The last words you have repeated shows another
point of resemblance. The water in the wilderness was
free to all; so the Gospel invitation is, Ho, every one
that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." Have you any
any other thing to remark about this type ?
F.-Water cleanses the body, and the blood of Christ
washes away our sins.
M.-That is a very good answer. Now, notice lastly,
that this water continued with the Israelities in all their
after journeyings, and every day they needed to come
to it and drink. So, every day we must come to Jesus,
for pardon and for grace to help in time of need.
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