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The Little Gleaner, Vol. X.

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Title: The Little Gleaner, Vol. X.

Author: Various


        
Release date: February 1, 2012 [eBook #38745]
                Most recently updated: January 8, 2021

Language: English

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Credits: Produced by Stephen Hope, Delphine Lettau, Clive Pickton,
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE GLEANER, VOL. X. ***




Produced by Stephen Hope, Delphine Lettau, Clive Pickton,
Julia Neufeld and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at https://www.pgdp.net







[Illustration: HOP-PICKING. (_See page 274._)]




  THE

  LITTLE GLEANER.

  A

  Monthly Magazine for the Young.

  VOL. X., NEW SERIES.
  1888.

  LONDON:
  HOULSTON AND SONS, 7, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C.;
  AND E. WILMSHURST, BOOKSELLER, BLACKHEATH, S.E.




  LONDON:
  PRINTED BY W. H. AND L. COLLINGRIDGE,
  148 AND 149, ALDERSGATE STREET, E.C.

[Illustration: _Engraved by S. W. Partridge & Co._

"WELL, THEN, COME TO THE CANAL." (_See page 4._)]




THE EDITOR'S NEW YEAR'S ADDRESS TO HIS YOUNG FRIENDS.


Dear young friends,--We wish you each and all a very Happy New Year,
and, above all things else, that it may prove to many of you a year of
grace--that is, we pray that the rich saving grace of God may be put in
the hearts of many of our readers who hitherto have not called upon Him
for mercy.

How many who began the year 1887 in health are now laid in the grave!
Some, no doubt, who read this address will be thinking of others who
read last year's, and who were interested in THE LITTLE GLEANER,
watching for its appearance month by month, but who now have passed
away, and will no more read it, nor walk and talk with them again.

The other month, a wrapper in which a GLEANER had been enclosed by some
friend to a person in Ireland was sent to us bearing this solemn mark,
"_Dead_." This told us that the person to whom the GLEANER had been sent
had become the prey of death, and would never read another.

Oh, how solemn that word looked and sounded to us--"_dead_!" and the
thought rushed into our mind, "How did he die? Where is he? If he died
in Christ, it is well with him, for all who thus die are eternally at
rest, free from sin, care, pain, and sorrow. Yea, they are 'for ever
with the Lord.'"

Dear reader, how is it with you? You are spared, while some have been
called from time into eternity. We hope you feel this to be a mercy, and
we now ask, Have you ever been led to the throne of grace, concerned
about sin and salvation? Has the cry ever gone from your heart to the
Lord, "God be merciful to me a sinner"? If not, oh, that, as this year
begins to pass away, the Spirit may cause your heart to feel the guilt
of your sin, and lead you, a poor, burdened, contrite one, to the feet
of Him who died on the cross, and whose blood cleanses those who are
thus brought unto Him from all sin. Then you shall prove that He is
"mighty to save"--yea, "able to save all those to the uttermost that
come unto God by Him."

We believe that many who will read these words have proved the ability
of Christ Jesus to save, and that others are seeking Him, and longing to
know that their sins are forgiven. We rejoice over them, and pray that
many more may be brought to walk the same way, for it is the way from
sin, death, and hell, and the way to Christ, peace, and heaven. All who
walk therein belong to the flock of the Good Shepherd; and we can say to
each one who has thus fled to Him for refuge, "He careth for you." His
love is stronger than death, and knows no change, for He is "the same
yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."

Dear young friends, there is a reality in the religion of Jesus, and we
pray that, in this truth-despising day, you may feel the power of grace,
and, by the work of the Spirit in your hearts, be so grounded in the
truth that you may turn with contempt from all those who, while they
profess to preach, have not the knowledge of God and His truth in them;
and, although they are anxious to discredit the Word of God, and set
aside the atonement of Christ, yet they do not know what to substitute
for them. All who follow such leaders are certainly being led on "the
down grade," and even the leaders themselves confess that they do not
know where they shall be landed. Some have already been landed in
Socinianism, and others in infidelity. Therefore, we say to all our
readers, Abide by and hold fast the Word of God, Cleave to those who
preach the pure and simple truths of the Gospel of Christ, as recorded
in the Scriptures, and may the Lord bless you with faith to receive
them in your heart. Then you shall "know the truth, and the truth shall
make you free."

Dear young friends, we seek your good, therefore we thus write, hoping
that our word of warning may not be in vain, but that some may be put on
their guard against preachers and teachers who have nothing but the
shifting sands of science for a foundation, which must all be swept
away, and those who build thereon must perish in the ruin.

Oh, may we be found on the Rock, Christ, living and dying, and be
enabled to declare before all these deceivers, "I know whom I have
believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have
committed unto Him against that day."

Children, do not forget the Bible. Obey, honour, and love your parents.
Avoid bad company, bad and foolish books, and evil habits. These things
will bring shame and misery to those who follow them, therefore shun
them all.

We still ask your help in spreading the GLEANER and the SOWER. May the
Lord make them useful, and bless you with His covenant blessing, is the
desire of

                                                     THE EDITOR.




A TOUCHING INCIDENT.


A very touching incident occurred lately at Governeur Hospital, New York
City.

Little Annie Ashpurvis was sent by her parents to the cellar for some
firewood. The child, who was but six years old, took a lighted lamp in
her hand, and while descending the stairs, her foot slipped, and she
fell, breaking the lamp, the flames of the burning fluid soon enveloping
her entire body. As soon as the surgeon was called, the little sufferer
was driven in an ambulance to the hospital. The child was put on a sofa
cot, and the surgeon did all he could to alleviate her suffering, but it
was impossible to save her life. Under the influence of a narcotic, she
soon fell asleep. Thus she lay slowly breathing for some hours. Her face
was so swollen that she could not open her eyes. About half-past two in
the morning she showed signs of returning consciousness. The watchful
nurse asked her if she would take a drink. She distinctly answered,
"Yes." In a moment the house surgeon was beside her cot. He felt the
pulse, but shook his head, and turned to go away. As he did so, the
little creature moved her body. She turned half around. The dim light of
the candle shone on the blackened face. The swollen lips pursed out, and
in a clear, sweet voice, the dying child began to sing, "Nearer, my God,
to Thee." The doctor and the nurse stood transfixed. The other patients
in the silent, darkened ward leaned on their elbows and drank in the
sweet melody. The first verse completed, she gradually sank back on her
pillow. Her strength began to fail, and with it her voice, and only the
humming, like distant music, of the air of the hymn could be heard. How
sweet, yet weird, that humming sounded! The candle lent its meagre
light, and the big clock in the corner told out its seconds, as the
sweet little soul passed out to its Maker. The humming ceased. All was
over. The doctor turned away with his handkerchief raised to his eyes.
The nurse gazed into the flame of the candle, and heaved a sigh. She
seemed to read the little one's death there.

When the remains were buried, the coffin was strewn with flowers,
offerings of her little schoolmates, with whom the dead child had been a
great favourite.--

                                             _Evangelist_.


SELF-DENIAL.--There never did, and never will, exist anything permanent,
and noble, and excellent in a character which was a stranger to the
exercise of resolute self-denial.




"ONLY ONCE."


"Stop a minute, James. We're making up a skating party to go down the
river to-night. We shall build a fire on the island, and have a grand
time. Come, go with us."

"No, George, I can't. Father says I must skate on the canal. It isn't so
wide, nor quite so good skating, I know, but it's safe."

"Nonsense! The ice is at least two inches thick anywhere, even in the
thinnest places."

"No matter. I can't skate on the river."

"Well, then, come to the canal. You can skate out to the fork, where it
joins the river, and see us all. Will you do that?"

"Yes."

"All right. Be there at seven."

James was ready with his skates at the time appointed, and about to
leave the house.

"Where now, James?" asked his father.

"I'm going to skate awhile on the canal, father."

"Well, it's a bright evening, but don't stay late, and don't go on the
river."

Just then James's little sister, Marion, who was ready to go to bed,
shouted after him, "Stop, James! Give me a kiss," and holding up her
rosebud mouth, in a plump face, from which the laughing eyes were
shining, she received his good-night kiss, and he went out. As he passed
the window, he saw, through the half-drawn curtains, little Marion by
her mother, with the Bible. The father had laid his Book down, and they
sat reverently listening while his petition went up to heaven. It was a
beautiful picture. Poor Jamie! With what different feelings would he
have looked upon it, had he then known what was to happen within the
next two hours!

He crossed the field before the house, and was soon on the canal, and
gliding swiftly towards the river, from which the sound of merry voices
already reached his ear; and as he wheeled splendidly, just at the
entrance of the canal, the boys saw him, and came bearing down upon him
like a fleet of swift ships before the wind.

"Hurrah, James!" cried a dozen of them, as they joined company on the
canal.

There they amused themselves awhile, racing, skating backward, and
cutting all sorts of fanciful figures upon the ice, until George gave
the word, "Now for the island!" and with loud shouts they shot out
together upon the river, all but James.

"I must leave you now," he said.

"Oh, James, don't!" cried several at once.

"Now, see here, James," said George; "what's the use of being so set? Go
down with us this time."

"Father said, 'Don't go on the river.'"

"Well, as to that, you've been on the river two or three times. Look at
your marks."

James now saw that, in the excitement of their sport, he had repeatedly
rushed out of the canal quite across the channel of the river. He wanted
to go with the boys. He didn't really think there was much danger, and
the discovery that he had already unwittingly broken his father's
command, did not help him in his hour of weakness and temptation. The
boys all clamoured for him to join them. James slowly glided out of the
canal, stood still a moment, and the tempter prevailed.

"Well, I'll go down this once--mind you, only once," and he darted like
an arrow to the front, for he was the best skater in the company, and
soon was far in advance of the rest.

Alas! none of the boys knew of the murderous "breathing-hole" which had
opened that day in the ice in the channel, and now lay right in James's
path, waiting to receive him; and the first notice they had of its
existence was a despairing cry of terror from him as he plunged in.

All was confusion among the boys; but George, more self-possessed than
the others, hurried to the shore, and, shouting cheerily, "Hold on,
Jamie! I'll help you out," broke off the limb of a tree, as large and
long as he could handle, brought it on, and tried, by carefully creeping
towards James, to put it within his reach. But the current was strong;
the water was bitterly cold; and James, who had been urging his friend
to make haste, now began to lose his strength and become benumbed, and
before the limb came within his grasp, he said, faintly, "Oh, George, I
can't hold on any longer! Ask father--to forgive----" and went down with
the tide.

An hour later, the men at the mill below, who had broken the ice above
the barred outlet of the dam, and were watching and waiting in
expectation of their mournful work, lifted James's body out of the
water, and tenderly carried it to his home.

Boys, I have seldom told you a more sad story. Oh, that I could now
impress upon your young hearts the lesson of obedience to parents so
deeply that it shall never be forgotten! If you are ever tempted to
disregard a kind father's commands, or his advice, even though it be
"only once," may you have strength to resist the temptation. Remember
Jamie. It is true that disobedience to parents is not always--nor indeed
often--followed so speedily by such sad consequences, but we know that
the smile of God for this life will rest upon those children who obey
their parents.

"Honour thy father and mother" is the first commandment with promise.




LINES ON THE NEW YEAR.


In some simple words of rhyme
Read, and mark the flight of time;
Seasons come and disappear,
As we pass from year to year.

All things ever on the move,
Whether them we hate or love;
'Tis a changing scene below--
This we own, for this we know.

Blest are they--and only they--
Who are in the "narrow way";
Seeking Jesus' blessed face;
Longing much to know His grace.

Mourning over inward sin;
Panting only Him to win
Who for sin and sinners died,
When on Calvary crucified.

Do I, who these lines now read,
Of redemption feel my need?
Do I really long to know
That His blood for me did flow?

Do my heart and mouth confess
I am all unrighteousness?
Do I pray indeed to see
Christ my Righteousness to be?

Do I feel I cannot die
Till He does His blood apply?
And my doubting soul assure
I shall to the end endure?

If 'tis so, I know full well
I shall surely with Him dwell,
And shall, in His house on high,
Shout His praise beyond the sky.

                                     A. HAMMOND.


SUPPOSING all the great points of atheism were formed into a kind of
creed, I would fain ask whether it would not require an infinitely
greater measure of faith than any set of articles which they so
violently oppose?--_Addison._




THE CHARCOAL BURNER'S STAR.


In one of the Protestant cantons of Switzerland dwelt a lady of fortune,
in a handsome mansion, surrounded with extensive grounds. These were
laid out with the greatest taste, so as to command at every convenient
point a favourable view of the romantic and interesting country that
rose on all sides round the lovely and fertile plain in which it was
situated.

Madame de Blenal was a widow who had, at an early age, married a
gentleman of property in the canton who, like herself, was a humble
follower and sincere lover of the Redeemer, but who, after a year or two
of as perfect happiness as this world can be expected to afford, died in
faith, looking forward with assured hope to the promises made by the
Lord Jesus to all who truly believe in Him.

With a heart prepared by faith to submit to the decrees of Providence,
whether for this world's good or ill, Madame de Blenal, though she
deeply felt the blow which her Heavenly Father had inflicted upon her,
soothed her grief with the reflection that her husband was now at peace,
and removed from the troubles which beset every sojourner in this mortal
world. Too fondly attached to his memory ever to enter a second time
into married life, she applied herself entirely to the cultivation of a
treasure he had left behind, in the person of a little boy named Alfred,
whom she endeavoured prayerfully to bring up "in the nurture and
admonition of the Lord." Neither did she neglect to enrich his mind with
such knowledge as might enable him to manage the earthly inheritance
which was hereafter to belong to him, if it pleased God that he should
live to arrive at the age of manhood.

At the time of which we are writing, Madame de Blenal had just resigned
to him the management of the property which he inherited from his
father, reserving to herself only the portion which she had brought with
her when she married. Still, as, in his own opinion as well as hers, he
was yet too young to think of taking a wife, Madame de Blenal remained
the mistress of his household, while he applied himself to studying the
nature of the duties that had devolved upon him, and to endeavouring to
acquire personal experience in the management of his estate, as well as
to improve the characters and condition of his tenants and labourers.

It happened one day, towards the end of summer, that a party who were
friends of her son's, together with some older ones of her own, had been
dining at her house, and the whole party had retired after dinner, to
take their coffee in an open part of the grounds which commanded the
best view both of the plain and of the mountains beyond it. The former
was already involved in the shades of evening, which, gradually
ascending the latter, soon reached the glaciers in the distance, and
converted the roseate tint with which the last beams of the departing
sun had invested them into that cold, lurid hue that heralds in the
approaching night. The stars now began to appear, one by one, in the
clear blue sky, and led the thoughts of many, if not all, of the party
from Nature up to Nature's God. Some of the younger ones, however, began
to amuse themselves by counting them, as they came into view; and one or
two, rather vain of their knowledge of astronomy, informed the others of
their names. Suddenly Alfred exclaimed--

"I can see one which is not to be found in the lists furnished by any
astronomer, and yet it is by far the most brilliant."

His friends thought that he was jesting, but yet attempted to discover
it in the sky.

"You are all looking too high," he said, laughing, and pointed to a
distant mountain, where the fire of a charcoal burner had just made its
appearance.

The party gazed attentively for some time, when one of the ladies said,
with a sigh--

"Poor man! How much he is to be pitied, sitting all alone up there!"

"Perhaps, madame, he is not so solitary as you imagine. The mountaineers
of these parts seldom leave their village homes for the summer season
without taking a Bible with them, so that I trust it may be said of this
one, even if his solitude is not sometimes broken by a passing visit
from a goatherd, that he is never quite alone, for God is always near
them that fear Him."

"That is a blessed thing indeed," said the lady; "but is he not in
danger from the wolves?"

"No, madame. First of all, the wolves are not so numerous about here as
many persons think; and, even where they are more abundant, there are
few, at this season, so pressed by hunger as to have the courage to
attack a man; and besides, the fire itself would keep them at a
distance. They have an instinctive dread of it."

"So far so good, Mr. Alfred. Still, if I were in the place of this man,
I should not be quite at ease. I should every moment be expecting the
approach of robbers."

"Robbers, madame, are very considerate people. They do not like to lose
either their time or their labour. Now, what could they find worth
stealing from this poor charcoal burner?"

"What? Why, his money, to be sure!"

"His money? If he happens to have any. He does not carry it with him
into the forest, where he has no use for it, but leaves it at home with
his wife."

"A very good husband! But his watch?"

"An article quite useless to him. He marks the time by the sun and
stars; or, if the weather is cloudy, most of the mountain chalets are
furnished with a small wooden clock, which holds out no great temptation
to men whose thoughts are fixed upon the well-stored purses of
travellers."

"You have an answer for everything, Mr. Alfred. Do you know the man?"

"I cannot say that I do, madame. We have few, if any, charcoal burners
in our domain. That mountain is at some distance, and he belongs most
probably to another village. But I have had occasion to observe the
habits of these mountaineers, and have acquired a tolerable knowledge of
them generally."

"And what can he possibly be doing at this hour, in that wild place?"

"Precisely what we are doing ourselves--he is watching his fire."

After many other conjectures had been hazarded as to the way in which
the charcoal burner was passing his time, Madame de Blenal said--

"A truce with these idle fancies. Our pastors in this canton are not
idle, and our peasantry are generally well instructed in their Christian
duties, so I trust that he is better employed than any of you suppose.
Perhaps, at this moment, he is sitting with the Bible on his knee,
reading of the mercies of Jesus, meditating upon them as he watches his
fire, and lifting up his heart in prayer to Him who alone is able to
inspire it with holy thoughts and divine affections."

"However," said the lady who had first begun the conversation, "I should
really like to know what he is about. I wish some one could tell us who
has actually seen him."

"I can easily satisfy your curiosity, madame," said young Alfred. "I
have nothing to do but to mount my horse and gallop to the foot of the
mountain. It will not be more than an hour's ride. I will then engage a
guide to take me to the charcoal burner's hut, and, without losing a
moment, I will find out what he was doing at nightfall."

"Are you not afraid of your son's undertaking such an enterprise at this
late hour?" asked a young lady of Madame de Blenal.

Madame de Blenal smiled, and replied, "No, mademoiselle. My son is well
acquainted with the road. We are not infested with robbers in this
canton, and, as the object of his pursuit is perfectly innocent, I can
confide him to the protection of Him on whom I know his own trust is
constantly fixed. Go, then, Alfred, but exercise your usual prudence,
and do not heedlessly expose yourself to danger."

An old lady who had not yet spoken, but who knew how to "speak a word in
season," then remarked, "Place, each of you, a small sum of money in
Alfred's hands. If he finds the charcoal burner worthily employed, let
him bestow it upon him. If otherwise, as some of you have supposed may
be the case, let him bring it back, and restore to each one what he has
contributed."

Every one readily agreed to the proposal. Each drew out his purse, and
Alfred received a very respectable sum. He was leaving the party, when
some one asked how soon they might expect him back?

"By midnight," he replied.

"And where shall we meet?"

"Here," said Madame de Blenal. "We will return into the house when
Alfred is gone, for the air is getting cold, and it will not be prudent
to sit here any longer."

Alfred then set out; and as soon as the sound of his horse's hoofs was
heard, the young men pulled out their watches, that the precise length
of his absence might be ascertained when he returned.

We will now leave Madame de Blenal to order supper for her party, and
the remainder to amuse themselves with conversation, music, and such
resources as her house afforded, while we accompany Alfred on his
nocturnal excursion.

The moon had just begun to rise in full splendour above the mountains as
he started, and to spread her silver light over the plain. This,
together with the increasing freshness of the air, infused spirits into
the rider as well as his horse. Notwithstanding, however, the knowledge
which both of them possessed of the road they had to traverse, they
scarcely reached the foot of the mountain within the time upon which
Alfred had calculated. Here were situated two or three picturesque
cottages, inhabited by guides, one of whom was known to Alfred by name.
Him therefore he sought out, and engaged to conduct him to the object of
his journey. The man was rather surprised at a summons so late in the
evening, and asked the traveller whether he had not better wait at his
cottage till daybreak.

"No," replied Alfred; "I only wish to go as far as the charcoal burner's
hut, whose fire can be seen for some miles off, and I must return to
where I came from before midnight."

"Ah! my friend Gervais. I know him well, sir. But it is a good way up
the mountain, and if you have far to ride back, you will hardly keep to
the time you have mentioned."

"Never mind," said the young man; "I must go on now. Where can I put my
horse?"

"Here in this shed, sir. There is a bit of hay and some beans, with
which he can amuse himself while we are gone."

The path was not steep, for it was cut in a zig-zag form, sometimes
leading over pastures, and sometimes through woods so thick that the
moonlight could not penetrate them; but the guide was provided with a
torch of pine, to prevent the danger of a false step. For the first part
of the journey they travelled on in silence, the guide amusing himself
with forming conjectures as to the object of Alfred's visit to the
charcoal burner after night had set in. "Can it be," he said to himself,
"a relation from the Indies, or from Algeria? I never heard that
Gervais had any relations in those parts. Or a creditor? No, that cannot
be, for my honest friend, I am sure, does not owe any one a single
penny. Or has he gained a prize in the lottery? He would consider it a
sin to risk the smallest fraction upon such a hazard. Ah! perhaps some
one has left him a legacy. So much the better, if it is so. I shall be
well paid for the trouble I have had. He is too good a fellow not to
reward me to the utmost of his power."

Thus it was that the guide employed himself in vain conjectures. When
the uncertain light by which they travelled, whether of the moon or of
the torch, fell sufficiently clear upon Alfred's features, he examined
them attentively, as if he could have read his secret in them. His
curiosity made him not less impatient to reach the charcoal furnace than
the young man himself. At length, by a sudden turn of the path, it
appeared at once before them. The wood, heaped in the form of a cone,
and covered with a thick coating of earth, was burning slowly, openings
being made at different heights on the mound, to give a passage to the
flames, and to afford a proper proportion of atmospheric air, to keep
them alive.

Alfred, though born in the neighbourhood, had never before visited a
charcoal furnace; but, new as the sight was to him, he did not pause
long to observe it. His attention was arrested by the hut which stood
near, built something in the form of a tent, and composed of planks
leaning on both sides against a cross-beam, which rested on two others
placed one at each end of the building. This kind of hut is common to
most of the charcoal burners of these mountains, where they make their
dwelling during the whole of the summer months, having no other bed than
dried leaves--no other apparent occupation than cutting and piling up
the wood, and watching their fires. One moment only Alfred stopped to
gaze upon this humble dwelling, compared with which the chalets of the
cowherds were almost splendid mansions; the next instant, his attention
was arrested by something far more interesting. A chorus of youthful
voices burst upon his ears, accompanied by one deep, clear bass, which
was powerful enough to support and regulate the trebles. They were
singing the following hymn, to a beautiful Swiss air, well known to
Alfred as one used in the churches of that Protestant canton--

  "Look to Jesus, weary wanderer,
    Sinful, wretched as thou art;
  He is precious; thou shalt know it;
    Only trust His loving heart.

  "Trust it wholly; it was broken
    That thine own might be at peace;
  Every sin its streams atone for;
    He can bid all anguish cease.

  "Now He reigns above the heavens,
    And shall reign for evermore;
  But His mighty arm is guarding
    Those for whom He died before.

  "He shall come again in glory;
    All creation shall bow down;
  Those who seek not His salvation
    Must endure His awful frown.

  "Wait upon Him, then, His people;
    Let Him be your constant strength;
  Lean upon Him daily, hourly;
    Ye shall reign with Him at length.

  "May the Spirit of adoption,
    Which our Heavenly Father gives,
  Help us all and each to please Him
    More each moment of our lives."

  (_To be continued_.)



ENVY shoots at others and wounds itself.

WE should often have reason to be ashamed of our most brilliant actions,
if the world could see the motives from which they spring.




SCRIPTURE ENIGMA.

A PARABLE FROM A FARMER'S SON TO ALL GLEANERS.


I was born in a house where there were many fields attached--in fact, it
was called a farm-house, so, from a boy, I well knew what a "gleaner"
meant. I have seen all sizes in a field, picking up corn. But gleaning
is not so general as it used to be. One reason is, many farmers are too
covetous to leave much in their fields for gleaners. Another is, many
persons are too proud to be gleaners. But still there are many who are
entitled to the character of "gleaner."

Now, gleaners, let us come a little closer. First, there must be the
person known as the farmer; secondly, there must be the fields. These
fields must be sown with corn. It must ripen, be cut and carried. Then
is the time for the gleaner to take his or her part. The gleaners must
have a will, and patience to wait. They need eyes, hands, and feet.

At the time the farmer's son is writing this, gleaning is over. It is
winter. But he can tell gleaners of a farm containing sixty-six fields,
some much larger than others, but all the fields grow the best corn that
can be found at any market in the world. There is not one whole grass
field found on the farm. There are a number of young and old people live
near this farm, but they do not want to be gleaners. They look over the
gates sometimes, but, having eyes so much like the mole, they either do
not take that to be corn which is really so, or else they pursue other
things they feel are so much better than gleaning in any of these
fields; and not being very poor, but having enough gold to buy a few
oxen, they tell some of the farmer's workmen they prefer _buying_ or
_taking_ to gleaning, so they wish them "good morning"; but they are
very polite to the men they join in conversation with. Then there are
other people near these fields who say they hate the great farmer. In
fact, they are so evil-disposed that they talk freely of hating the
fields and the corn too; and there is not one workman on the estate they
will give a good word to. This the farmer's son can vouch for truth; and
he has a good many brothers belonging to his family, who could be called
as witnesses if there was any need.

But we must not overlook others who live near the farm. Most of them
dwell in a very low-built house; there is no upstairs. They live on the
ground floor, and not far from the spot where they dwell, some of the
labourers on the farm live, and they join in conversation occasionally.
But these poor people who dwell in the low-built cottages are shy, and
think they take a liberty even in saying a few words to these labourers;
and as for talking freely to the great farmer, they dare not. If he
passes, they only bow before him and look on the ground. You would
almost wonder how they are kept alive. They are nearly always hungry,
but, now and then, they get just enough to keep them alive.

When the "season" comes round, those that observe may soon find these
are the old-fashioned gleaners. They possess willing legs, eyes, and
hands. They use their legs by starting from their poor home; and, after
walking some distance, the road brings them to this farm of sixty-six
fields. These fields are all numbered. Some look at one field, and some
at another, but the hedges are all good. No one can get through them,
and a high gate is at each entrance. One of the gleaners looked with a
very wishful eye over the gate of the eighth field, and she desired to
be among the gleaners, but there was a notice that "trespassers will be
prosecuted." How earnestly the gleaner uses his eyes, and looks through
the bars of the gate; but there are no ears of corn to be seen at
present by him, so he cannot use his hands, though they are both ready
to pick up; and the thought comes, "No doubt there will soon be plenty
of corn seen, and, if I might, would I not pick up? I feel I would glean
beside any gleaner. If he could pick faster than I, he would have to be
very nimble. I do not know that the great landowner and farmer would
allow me to go into his field. But, though my hands now hang down, and I
cannot use them, I will go home and wait, and come again. If I cannot
get admission to one field, I may to another. I should be happy if I
could glean in the smallest field on the farm. Perhaps, when I come
again, that notice-board may be taken down. If so, I think I shall
venture into No. 8 or 17; but should I not have nerve enough, I shall
humbly ask one of the labourers, and if he says he does not know, I
will, if an opportunity occurs, bow myself to the earth and ask the
great owner. I have been told by some that he often appears as if he
could not condescend to speak to those that live in such a low house,
yet, if you press your suit, he will speak in the kindest manner, and
ask what you really want."

The farmer's son noticed, as this gleaner returned to his humble home,
one of the labourers greeted him with a "Good evening," and asked him
why he looked so sad? He replied, "I have been a long journey to glean
on the farm owned by your master, and I looked at the eighth field, but
could not see that there were any ears of corn for me to pick up; and
besides, I noticed a board, that 'trespassers will be prosecuted,' and
thoughts would keep coming in my mind as I returned, that possibly I
should never be admitted into any of the fields as a gleaner." The
labourer said, "You must not faint, but, as soon as the sun rises in the
morning, try and find the forty-second field, and most probably you will
find the gate open. If, as you enter, the first part of the field looks
bare, walk to almost the middle, and I think you will find some
gleanings to pick up." He returned thanks, bowed, and they parted.

The next morning, as soon as the sun was up, he arose and did as he was
bid. After reaching the field, he found the part where the ears of corn
lay, and he picked up as many as he needed. On his return, he met
several other gleaners who were seeking a field to glean in. He bade
them go to the same one where he had picked up an armful, and there they
would find the result of perseverance.

The parable is closed for this time. Will any reader, under twelve years
of age, expound it? Who are the farmer and the son? Who are the
labourers and gleaners? What are the sixty-six fields? And what are the
names of those specially referred to? Search from Genesis to Revelation.

                                         Your true friend,
                                          THE FARMER'S SON
                                 (_Over fifteen years old_).

[A volume, "The Loss of All Things for Christ," will be given for the
best answer. The writer must be under twelve.]




BIBLE SUBJECTS FOR EACH SUNDAY IN JANUARY.


Jan. 1. Commit to memory 1 Chrn. v. 10.
Jan. 8. Commit to memory Psa. cxi. 10.
Jan. 15. Commit to memory Prov. viii. 10.
Jan. 22. Commit to memory Prov. viii. 32.
Jan. 29. Commit to memory John iv. 10.


WHAT the world calls virtue is a name and a dream without Christ. The
foundation of all human excellence must be laid deep in the blood of the
Redeemer's cross and in the power of His resurrection.--_Robertson._




AN OLD QUILT AND ITS STORY.


Among all the beautiful needlework exhibited in the "Woman's Industry
Department" of the recent Edinburgh Exhibition, many must have observed
a bed-quilt worked in a quaint conventional pattern, on a white linen
ground, which bore a label to the effect that it was "designed and
commenced by a Countess of Aberdeen towards the middle of the last
century, and recently completed by a crofter woman in Aberdeenshire."

Could the quilt tell its own tale, its history, no doubt, would be most
pathetic and interesting; but we will try, with the knowledge we have,
to lightly sketch that history.

The Countess who commenced it was Anne, daughter of Alexander, second
Duke of Gordon. The third wife of William, Earl of Aberdeen, she was
still a young woman when, by his death in 1745, she was left a widow.
Quitting Haddo, the home of her married life, she went with her young
family to reside in the fine old historic castle of Fyvie, a few miles
distant, which, with her dower, had been bought by the Earl as her
jointure house. The Countess seems to have been gifted with artistic
tastes, as she left in Haddo many evidences of her skill and
industry--several sets of beautifully-worked curtains, with
long-forgotten curious stitches, producing varied and admirable effects.
But the bright, pretty industry of the Countess was checked. Sickness,
to be followed by death, entered her home.

We may fancy that by her husband's sick-bed the first beginning of this
quilt was made--how, in the intervals of watching the invalid, a few
sprays and scrolls were delicately traced. But the summons had gone
forth, and, as death approached, the work, which had been in part the
occupation of happier days, and a resource in affliction, was thrown
aside.

When the widowed Countess had settled in a new home, and again faced the
ordinary duties of life, we need not wonder that she thought no more of
the discarded work left at Haddo House, but set herself to design afresh
and embroider the curtains which have ever since (until recently)
adorned a bed-room in Fyvie Castle.

Into these no doubt was woven many a thought for the Jacobite cause, and
many an anxiety for dear ones, as her own family, the ducal house of
Gordon, had been keen supporters of the Stuarts, and it is said that the
Countess came out on the road-side, near Fyvie Castle, with her
children, to see the Duke of Cumberland's troops pass on their way to
Culloden to put down the Scotch rebellion, and boldly avowed to him her
sympathy with his foe.

But what of the work the Countess left at Haddo House? As to it, our
history is silent for more than a hundred years. It has lain folded by
the fingers of the busy worker that have long been still. Sorrow and joy
have come by turns to the house--birth and death. Children have
prattled, and statesmen have discussed the affairs of nations. Those who
have made history have come and gone; philanthropy and romance have
alike been woven into the family story; but the piece of discarded
broderie has been unheeded.

At length the present Countess of Aberdeen, whose name will ever be
associated with earnest desire and effort for the good of others, and
whose taste and love of the beautiful led to her interest in such work,
unfolding the long-forgotten quilt, conceived the idea of having it
completed, if possible. To whom, however, could the beautiful work be
entrusted to be finished, by deft fingers and graceful appreciation?

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A CROFTER'S COTTAGE.]

We now turn to another scene. About five-and-twenty years ago, on the
top of a bare hill in Fyvie, Aberdeenshire, stood a cottage, tenanted
by a crofter named Sandieson, with his wife and family. Though at a
comparatively high elevation, the land around was all cultivated, but,
arid and stony as the soil was, it seemed as if cultivation were one
long struggle against Nature, rather than aided by it. Life was hard;
still, contentment sweetened the peasant's lot, and they got on pretty
well till sickness during three successive winters told hardly on his
means. Father, mother, and children all worked; still the wolf was at
the door. Bed clothing was scant, and money to buy still scantier. A
mother's love and care quickened thought.

The woman, as she tells her story, bethought herself what she could do
for bedding for a covering against cold. Scraps she had, bits of old
clothes and stockings, and tacked them together, fold upon fold, to
attain a certain thickness; then, buying a pennyworth of log-wood, and
with it dyeing what had once been a tartan shawl, but which had long
lost all its colour, she spread it over her scraps for a cover. But,
alas! the holes were but too apparent.

Necessity again quickened invention. She selected some of the better
pieces of the old garments, cut them into the shape of leaves and birds,
and laid them on the holes, adding one or two more for uniformity, and
then, with a darning needle and "fingering" wool, she veined the leaves
and made effective marking on the birds.

Such was her first attempt at fancy work. An admiring neighbour asked
her to do a similar quilt for her, offering some scraps of new material.
Another commission followed, this time with the offer of green wool for
leaves. But one cold, hard green did not please the worker, now growing
daily more experienced and critical, so a visit was made to the little
country town a few miles distant, in search of greater variety in greens
and browns, the appreciation of Nature's varied tints becoming daily
stronger and clearer.

About this time, a lady to whom the woman had taken some work, on sight
gave her a quantity of old floss silks. The possession of these was a
new power to her, and from that time she rapidly acquired a skill in
shading leaves and flowers with a beauty which it is impossible to
describe.

A farmer from a little distance, having heard of her work, went to see
her. After looking at what, to him, seemed so marvellous, he turned to
her, and said, "Well, well, it's wonderful! But you will have to do no
more rough work to keep your hands fit for this; and how will that do
with the croft?"

"Indeed, sir," was her reply, "it would never do. But I assure you this
is not my only work, for I have just finished building a hundred and
thirty-four yards of a stone dyke with my own hands. My husband had work
elsewhere, which he could not afford to miss. The cattle were straying
where they should not, so I have just built it myself, the children
helping me by handing up the smaller stones."

After gaining some experience, Mrs. Sandieson gave up the earlier style
of work with which she had begun, and devoted herself almost entirely to
embroidery in silks. She has trained a daughter, who lives with her, to
work as well as herself, and no description can do justice to the beauty
of their finer work. Their designs are, with very few exceptions, their
own, and many of their pieces are singularly beautiful. They have even
copied the plate representing a peacock on a branch of a tree, from
Gould's "Asiatic Birds," and no one but those who have seen it, could
believe in the wondrous working of the bird, and in the feathers of the
neck, with the faint change of tint where it catches the light as the
bird turns its head. It is marvellous!

But copying flowers from nature is what they chiefly do, and their
careful observation and fidelity in representation are very
characteristic in their work. Trails of thunbergia, scarlet tropaeolum,
apple blossom, cherry, and bramble; willow, with its catkins, a little
titmouse on the branch; snowberry, with a robin perched on it; the red
and white lapageria, eucalyptus, pepper tree, and others are some of
their subjects. And this is what the crofter's wife, who commenced with
the old dyed shawl for a foundation, has, totally unaided, taught
herself and her daughter to accomplish; and this is the crofter's wife
who, one hundred and forty years afterwards, was employed by Lady
Aberdeen to finish the quilt which the Countess of 1745 had commenced.
Is there not a little pathos in the history of a piece of work begun and
completed in such different circumstances?

The work of these peasant-artists, mother and daughter, is now very well
known among ladies in Aberdeenshire, and has lately been brought under
the notice of Her Majesty, who condescended to purchase largely of it;
but the writer believes the quilt shown by Lady Aberdeen, in Edinburgh,
to be the only specimen that has been exhibited publicly.--_Ladies'
Treasury._




WONDERFUL GRACE.


John Dickson, a farmer in the parish of Ratho, near Edinburgh, was long
a stranger to the riches of divine grace. He paid no regard to the
sacred ordinances, or, if ever on the Lord's Day he entered the house of
God, it was more for a desire of ridiculing than profiting by what he
heard. The Word preached did not profit him, not being mixed with faith.

In this dreadful situation was he when his wife died, after bringing
into the world an infant daughter. The good providence of that gracious
God who calleth the weak things of this world to confound the strong had
ordained that the nurse of this child should be a woman of exemplary
faith, who walked in the Spirit, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost. The
carnal mind of the father still continued at enmity with God; but he
was, ere long, to be brought to a full conviction of his own
unworthiness, and a delightful experience of the riches of redeeming
love.

The child, being now about twenty months old, and beginning to prattle a
few words, was one day sent for by her father, who was sitting after
dinner with some of his profane acquaintances. To his great astonishment
the child repeated, two or three times, in its infant tones, "Oh, the
grace of God!" These words made a deep impression upon the father. He
began to reflect upon his sins, and the power of that grace which
cleanseth from sin, so long the subject of his impious ridicule. The
Holy Ghost had opened his heart, and now brought him, like a sheep that
had been astray, into the fold of divine love. Since that time he has
walked as becometh one called in the Lord, bringing forth fruit meet for
repentance. The words which, through the grace of God, became the happy
instrument of his conversion were the customary ejaculation of the godly
nurse, and had thus been learned by the infant. So truly was the
Scripture verified that "out of the mouths of babes and sucklings the
Lord hath ordained praise."

                                                           R.


ENDEAVOR to be always patient of the faults and imperfections of
others, for thou hast many faults and imperfections of thy own that
require a reciprocation of forbearance. If thou art not able to make
thyself that which thou wishest to be, how canst thou expect to mould
another in conformity to thy will?--_Thomas a Kempis._




MY STAGE-COACH COMPANION.


It was on a dull, chilly morning, I remember, that I left my country
home by the coach which was to convey me to London. I was then about
twenty years of age. I had never before been very far, or very long
absent from my father's house; and my young mind was filled with
thoughts of the pleasures in store for me in a long visit I was about to
pay to my London relations.

Among the enjoyments I most reckoned on, apart from the society of my
aunt and cousins, were those of the theatre, balls, and evening parties.
Very different engagements these, from the domestic duties and rural
recreations to which I had been accustomed in a retired country
residence.

Thoughts like these had softened the pain of separation from my kind and
indulgent parents; but there were tears in my eyes on bidding them
farewell, and I was glad to let fall my veil, to hide them from the only
passenger in the coach.

This passenger was a gentleman of middle age, well wrapped up in a
greatcoat of rather formal cut, and with a clerical-looking hat on his
head. He had a pleasant, though a rather serious expression of
countenance, as he lifted his eyes from the book he was reading. It was
not long before he shut up the book, and made some remarks about the
weather and the scenery. A short silence followed, which was broken by
my fellow-traveller saying that he had just been passing a few weeks in
a watering-place which I knew to be a fashionable one.

"I have never been there," I said. "I suppose it is a very gay place,
sir?"

"It is a fine town, and the country around it is very beautiful," said
the gentleman.

This was not the answer I expected, and I varied my question by
referring to the visitors and places of amusement, particularly
mentioning the theatre and the public assemblies.

The stranger smiled pleasantly, and said, "I saw only the outside of the
theatre; but during my stay there I was present at several public
assemblies."

"How very enchanting they must be!" I remarked, with youthful ardour.

"I am not sure that 'enchanting' is quite the right word," he said,
looking thoughtful; "but they were very delightful, certainly."

"They were crowded, I suppose, sir?"

"Yes, generally," he said, and added that, at the last of these public
assemblies, there were present more than a thousand people.

This seemed to me to be a great number, and to need a large assembly
room to hold them. I made some remark which led him to say that no doubt
there were many varieties of character present, and of different degrees
in life. "But," he added, "I have reason to know that many honourable
personages were to be met with there, and even the King Himself was
there."

"The King, sir? I did not know that the King ever visited ----"; and I
began to feel incredulous. I was not so ignorant as not to know that
King George the Fourth, in whose reign we were then living, had for some
time almost secluded himself from his subjects, and resided generally at
Windsor.

"I see," continued the stranger, speaking more earnestly and seriously
than before, "that you do not quite understand me; and I apprehend that
we have each been using the same words to express a different set of
ideas on which our minds have been fixed."

"I do not understand you, sir," I said, rather coldly.

"Permit me, madam, to explain. I am a minister of the Gospel. The
public assemblies of which I have been speaking are the assembling
together of those who meet for God's worship and service; the honourable
persons to whom I referred are those whom the Bible calls the children
of God; and the King whom I believe to have been present at these
assemblies is He who is 'King of kings and Lord of lords,' who Himself
has told us that, where two or three are gathered together in His name,
there He is in the midst of them."

There was such kindness and courtesy and respect in the gentleman's
manner, that I could not feel vexed at his having spoken in a sort of
parable, so I smiled, and said, "I had no idea that you were a minister,
sir."

"I am glad that you are not angry with me, young lady," said he, "for
having wilfully misinterpreted your questions. You know it is 'out of
the abundance of the heart' that 'the mouth speaketh'; and when you got
into the coach I was engaged in thought, studying a subject which I hope
to speak about next Sunday; and, singularly, this subject is so far like
that which has engaged a few minutes of our conversation, as that it
refers to an assembly, though one of a very superior character to any
the world has ever seen or known."

"May I ask, sir, what assembly it is you mean?"

"Certainly," replied he; and taking from his pocket a New Testament, he
opened it and read, "Ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of
the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of
angels, to the general assembly and Church of the First-born which are
written in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of
just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant,
and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of
Abel."

Having read this, my fellow-traveller again put up his Book, and there
was a short silence between us, until he said, "That is the text, madam.
Do you think it possible for any preacher to do justice to it?"

"I do not know indeed, sir," I said; and I added (what I truly thought)
that the words struck me as being very beautiful.

"They are indeed beautiful, and magnificent, and solemn," he said; and
he continued to remark that they were highly calculated to arouse in the
mind emotions of no ordinary nature. Did I not think so?

I hesitated what to reply, for I shrank from expressing sentiments which
I did not really feel. Doubtless he saw my embarrassment, and, instead
of pressing for an answer, he asked me if he might mention a few of the
thoughts which had passed through his mind, as he had pondered over the
passage. I said, if he pleased to do so, I should be glad to hear him,
and accordingly he went on--

"I suppose that the words I have read referred not so much to the
future, as to the present position or condition of those to whom they
were addressed, and that they may be applied also to certain characters
at the present time. I have no doubt, madam, that you understand of what
characters I speak?"

"I could not misunderstand you," I said. "Of course you mean
Christians?"

"Yes; of all true Christians it may be said that they are come to Mount
Sion. All who truly believe in Christ live under a dispensation of
mercy. They are even now 'fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the
household of God.' Their names are enrolled in the Lamb's book of life;
angels are their invisible attendants; they are united in spirit to
'Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant'; they are admitted into the
gracious presence of the Father, 'the Judge of all,' so as to find
access at every hour to God within the veil; and they have even now
received the atonement, 'the blood of sprinkling,' by which their
polluted consciences are cleansed and purified. These are great and
exalted privileges, are they not?"

"Yes, sir," I said, feeling as I said it how incapable I was of
appreciating them. The stranger did not notice my hesitation, however,
but went on with still more animation--

"I cannot help thinking that more than I have mentioned is implied in
the words which you justly think so beautiful, and that the writer had
in his mind the future as well as the present life. The final and
everlasting _residence_ of all believers, after all the cares and toils
of their earthly pilgrimage are past, is to be Mount Sion, the city of
the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem; part of their _employment_ will
be holy and devout adoration; their _society_, myriads of angels and a
vast assembly of the perfected spirits of the just; the _chief source of
their happiness_ will be the presence of 'the Judge of all,' in 'Jesus
the Mediator'; and the cause of all this blessedness is indicated in the
closing words--'the blood of sprinkling,' or the atonement of Jesus."

I was interested, and wished he would continue. Probably he could see
that I was not unwilling to listen, for, after the pause of a minute or
two, he began to expatiate a little on some of the ideas he had already
expressed. He spoke of the unbroken repose and perfect security of the
city of God, and then of the happy employments of the great assembly in
heaven. Here he drew a contrast between the amusements of the world and
the enjoyments of the heavenly state, and added that, to worldly and
unsanctified minds, these enjoyments had no attractions.

"Those who live only for this life," he said, "cannot conceive of any
pleasure to be found in heavenly adoration and praise. Accustomed to
account the Sabbath of the Lord a weariness, and devotional services
irksome and tedious, it cannot appear to them desirable to enter upon a
state of existence in which the worship of the Almighty is one of the
choicest occupations of its inhabitants. Nor can we wonder," continued
my companion, "that it should be thus, so long as the heart remains at
enmity with God, while the affections are earthly and sensual, and where
there is no fear of God, no love to God, no delight in God, no earnest
desire to serve and honour Him. Am I not right?" the stranger asked,
fixing his eyes upon me.

"Yes, sir, I think you are," I replied, faintly; and, after some further
conversation on the same subjects, my fellow-traveller told me that he
was going only to the end of the present stage. "There we shall part,"
he said, "and possibly we shall not meet again in this world; but if, by
divine grace, we should be fellow-heirs of the same glorious
inheritance, we _shall_ meet in that general assembly."

These were almost the last words he spoke, for, in a few minutes, the
coach stopped, and the stranger, alighting and bidding me farewell,
disappeared.

Many years passed away, and I was a happy wife and mother. My husband
was a true and earnest Christian; and I--yes (and therein was my
happiness), I, too, was a believer in Christ. My Christian life had
been, in some respects, an eventful one. My first steps in it had been
beset with difficulties and no ordinary opposition; but patience was
given me to endure; strength, to overcome; and, blessed be God, my
heart's desire and prayer to Him on behalf of some very dear to me had,
I trust, been heard and answered.

My conversion was in part, at least, the result of the stage-coach
conversation I have recorded. God, in His infinite mercy, by means of
the words of a stranger, called me to consideration. The Holy Spirit
showed me my miserable condition, as being "a lover of pleasures more
than a lover of God." Through a long, dark passage of soul-distress and
great conflict I was led into the light and faith of the glorious
Gospel--from the thunders of Sinai to "Mount Sion, the city of the
living God; to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood
of sprinkling."

One thing troubled me--or, if not troubled exactly, left within me an
unsatisfied desire. For years I had longed to see, to meet once more,
the stranger who had so kindly and so wisely invited my attention to
religion. I wished to hear his voice again, and to tell him what the
Lord had done for my soul. Sometimes, indeed, I recalled his parting
words with something like awe, though yet with a thrill of pleasurable
assurance--"Possibly we shall not meet again in this world; but if, by
divine grace, we should be fellow-heirs of the same glorious
inheritance, we shall meet in that general assembly."

"Annie," said my husband one day--he had an open letter in his hand--"a
visitor is coming, whom I shall be very glad for you to know--my old
friend and pastor, Mr. J----"; and he put the letter into my hands. It
was a short note, merely stating that, finding he should be at a certain
time within easy reach of my husband's home, the writer would, if he
might, avail himself of the opportunity of renewing the personal
intercourse which time and distance had so long interrupted.

A few days later, a chaise drove to our door, and my husband, eager to
welcome his old friend, met him in the hall, where I also was waiting to
receive him. He was an elderly man, but with a firm step, a strong
frame, a pleasant smile, a kindly voice, and a benevolent countenance.

"Annie, my dear, this is----"

I cannot go on to describe a scene in which I became all at once and
unexpectedly so personally interested. In my husband's friend I
recognized, at a single glance, my stage-coach companion, though he had
no recollection of me.

It was a happy meeting--the faint foreshadowing, it may be, of such
meetings innumerable in that general assembly in the heavenly Jerusalem
above, when they who have sown, and those who have reaped, shall rejoice
together with "joy unspeakable and full of glory."--_A Tract issued by
the Religious Tract Society._




ANSWER TO BIBLE ENIGMA.

(_Page 275._)


"_I am the Rose of Sharon._"--SONG
OF SOLOMON ii. 1.

I ssachar   Genesis xxxv. 23.

A biram     Numbers xxvi. 9.
M icah      Judges xvii. 1.

T irzah     1 Kings xvi. 6.
H oreb      Exodus iii. 1.
E bal       Joshua viii. 30.

R ehoboam   1 Kings xi. 43.
O g         Numbers xxi. 33.
S hammah    1 Samuel xvii. 13.
E dom       2 Samuel viii. 14.

O nan       Genesis xlvi. 12.
F elix      Acts xxiv. 25.

S imon      Mark iii. 18.
H adadezer  2 Samuel viii. 3.
A maziah    Amos vii. 10.
R aven      Leviticus xi. 15.
O bed-edom  2 Samuel vi. 11.
N adab      Numbers iii. 4.

                                 ADA WILLERTON
                                  (Aged 9 years).

_Corby, Grantham._


I HAVE found, by a strict and diligent observation, that a due
observance of the duty of Sunday has ever had joined to it a blessing
upon the rest of my time.--_Sir Matthew Hale._




OUR BIBLE CLASS.

THE CROSS OF CHRIST.


The "cross of Christ" is mentioned by the Apostle Paul in his Epistles
to different Churches, but we may confidently say that the wooden gibbet
upon which the Saviour suffered was never loved or reverenced by that
honoured servant of the Lord, or the people to whom he wrote.

The brazen serpent, that divinely appointed means of Israel's cure, was
broken in pieces by good Hezekiah, who contemptuously called it a bit of
brass, because the Israelites worshipped it; and their idolatry is
described as a base crime in 2 Kings xviii. 4, although it was a figure
of Him that was to come; and Jesus Himself declared, "As Moses lifted up
the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up,
that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal
life" (John iii. 14, 15); and the "true cross," if it now existed, would
only be a bit of wood--a thing in itself worthless--and the adoration of
it would be nothing better than idolatry.

"Christ and Him crucified" is the sinner's hope, the believer's joy, and
this is what we are to understand by the apostolic mention of the cross
of Jesus.

The cross was the sign, the illustration, of His sufferings and death.
Crucifixion was most painful and most shameful, and both these facts
appear in Hebrews xii. 2. He "endured the cross, despising the shame."
With the hands and feet nailed to the cross, and the weight of the body
borne by those pierced hands, the sufferer, who generally was first
cruelly scourged, expired after long, lingering torture; and it was a
shameful death, to which only the lowest and worst of men were supposed
to be sentenced. Yet Jesus, the High and Holy One, "humbled Himself unto
death, even the death of the cross."

But there was deep spiritual meaning in all this. "Tribulation and
anguish" (Rom. ii. 9), sorrow and death, are sin's reward. "Dying, thou
shalt die" (Gen. ii. 17, margin) is the divine sentence upon every
transgressor, and "sin is a reproach to any people" (Prov. xiv. 34).
"Shame and everlasting contempt" will be the sinner's recompense. And
Jesus was His people's Surety and Substitute. He stood for them; He took
their place. The Just One suffered for the unjust. The King of Glory
bore reproach and shame for the sake of the sinners He eternally loved,
that whosoever believeth in Him should have everlasting life, glory, and
joy (Dan. xii. 2).

"The death of the cross," as Jesus suffered it, involved the shedding of
blood, and "the blood is the life." "He poured out His soul unto death."
"He gave His life a ransom for many," because "without shedding of blood
there is no remission," no forgiveness of sin.

But crucifixion, unlike many violent deaths, did not divide or dismember
the body. In stoning, the back was often broken; by other modes of
execution, the head was cut off, the neck broken, or the body otherwise
mutilated. The legs of the crucified might be broken to hasten death,
but this was no necessary part of the sentence; and concerning Jesus it
was prophesied, "None of His bones shall be broken" (Psa. xxxiv. 20;
John xix. 36). And this also was fraught with deep spiritual meaning.
That bruised and torn, yet perfect body which hung on the cross, and was
laid in the grave, was but a picture of that holy soul, that perfect
spirit, which He yielded up to God. How clear was His memory! That the
Scripture might be fulfilled, He said, "I thirst." How perfect His love!
He prayed for His executioners; He remembered Mary. How full His
knowledge of His people, and how perfect His confidence in Himself! He
blessed the penitent thief, and assured him of a home with Himself in
heaven.

Oh, wondrous Sufferer! almighty Saviour! None ever died as Jesus died,
bearing sin and guilt away, and overcoming death, while He laid down His
sacred life.

The cross of Christ has a mighty influence upon all who believe on His
name. Paul said, with holy earnestness, "God forbid that I should glory
in anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world
is crucified unto me, and I unto the world" (Gal. vi. 14). Once, as a
Pharisee, he loved the world--the religious world--the esteem of men,
the applause of his fellow-Pharisees; but now they hated and persecuted
him, and he despised their favour. So, if we are led to behold by faith
Jesus crucified for us, the sins, the pleasures, and the friendships of
the world will lose their power and attractions, and the love of Christ
will constrain us to live to Him who died and rose again for us.

We find that, when the Apostles were first beaten and threatened for
preaching the Gospel, "they departed from the presence of the council,
rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His sake"
(Acts v. 40, 41). They knew that Jesus loved and gave Himself for them,
and they, out of love to their Saviour, were willing to lay down their
lives for His sake, or to live despised and hated by the world.

Before He died, Christ said, "If any man will come after Me, let him
deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me." He foresaw His own
sufferings from the first, but the joy that was set before Him animated
Him all the while, and, as His people's Leader, He says, "Follow Me, and
enter at last into My joy." But Jesus never said, "Take up My cross."
Oh, no! His cross He alone could bear! His saving sufferings He only
could endure! It is our own cross that we are called to bear as His
followers, and His love will strengthen and support us.

Oh, that we may indeed know Him as our once crucified, but now exalted
Saviour, and follow Him through all life's changes to the bright home
whither He has gone, living henceforth to Him, and Him alone.

Our next subject will be, Psalm xxxii.

                                     Your loving friend,
                                                 H. S. L.




PRIZE ESSAY.

HOW TO LIVE WELL.


We cannot live well without we acknowledge God in all our ways. A
Christian cannot exist without prayer. Thus, in 1 Thessalonians v. 17,
it says, "Pray without ceasing," which shows us that we cannot live well
without prayer. To live well also means that we should obey and honour
our parents, as enjoined in Ephesians vi. 1, 2, and make ourselves
useful to those that surround us. And, in 2 Thessalonians iii. 13, it
says, "Brethren, be not weary in well doing." Jesus Christ has also set
a pattern, for He was always doing good. He even came into this world to
die for sinners. As Jane Taylor says--

"Jesus, who lived above the sky,
Came down to be a Man, and die;
And in the Bible we may see
How very good He used to be.

"And so He died; and this is why
He came to be a Man, and die:
The Bible says He came from heaven
That sinners' sins might be forgiven."

If we are taught to live a Christian life--to trust in, and fear God--He
will be sure to provide for our every want.

To live well is to try and always do the things that are just, treating
people with respect, and to love those who hate us, and those who
despitefully use us, for Jesus Christ's sake. He says, in John xv. 20,
"Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than
his lord. If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you; if
they have kept My sayings, they will keep yours also." If we wish to
live well, we must seek God in little things as well as in larger
things; for He takes account of the thoughts, words, and actions of men,
which are to be revealed at the last day.

Living well also means that we should do those things that are pleasing
in God's sight; for if we love and serve Him truly, we shall be happy
here and in the life to come, for the righteous Christ will gather as
His jewels at the great judgment day, and they will be happy for
evermore in that beautiful heaven which Jesus has prepared for those who
love Him, and do His will; for Jesus says, in John xiv. 3, "If I go to
prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto Myself;
that where I am, there ye may be also."

To live well is to live as expecting every day to be our last, and to be
looking for that time when the trump of the archangel shall sound, and
all the dead arise from their graves. We do not know the day, nor the
hour, when the Son of Man shall come to judge the quick and the dead,
for it says, in Matthew xxiv. 36, "But of that day and hour knoweth no
man, no, not the angels in heaven, but My Father only."

Newton expresses in the following verse some good thoughts upon the
right way to learn how to live, and that is, by seeking God's
direction--

"Show me what I have to do;
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith;
Let me die Thy people's death."

                               LILLY RUSH
                             (Aged 13 years).

_Red House, Thornham,
near Eye, Suffolk._

[There have been several creditable Essays sent, but none that have
reached the desired mark. We may mention those by Ernest Sawyer,
Margaret Creasey, E. B. Knocker, Jane Bell, Maria Reeder, E. T. Mann,
Edith Hirst, Ella Saunders, W. B. Beckwith (aged 11 years), A. Pease,
Sarah Hicks, and Jesse Hammond. The age of the writer must always be
given.]

[The writer of the above Essay receives a copy of THE LITTLE GLEANER
(cloth).

The subject for March will be, "Self-Help," and a kind friend has
promised a copy of "From the Loom to a Lawyer's Gown; or, Self-Help that
was not all for Self," for the best Essay. We hope we shall have some
good Essays on the subject. All competitors must give a guarantee that
they are under fifteen years of age, and that the Essay is their own
composition, or the papers will be passed over, as the Editor cannot
undertake to write for this necessary information. Papers must be sent
direct to the Editor, Mr. T. Hull, 117, High Street, Hastings, by the
first of February.]




A CHILD'S PRAYER.

SUITABLE FOR THE NEW YEAR.


Oh, blessed Jesus, care for me,
  And wash me in Thy blood;
Teach me to ever look to Thee,
  And help me to be good.

Give me Thy Holy Spirit, Lord,
  And teach me how to pray;
Oh, let me understand Thy Word,
  And take my sins away.

Whene'er I'm tempted to do wrong,
  Oh, let me think of Thee;
Help me to always guard my tongue,
  When naughty I would be.

Teach me to tread the narrow way,
  Which all Thy saints have trod;
And guard and guide me every day;
  Be Thou my Lord and God.

Help me to trust in Thee alone,
  And not have fear of men;
To seek Thy will before my own,
  For Jesus' sake. Amen.

                           JANE BELL
                     (Aged 14 years).

_Sleaford._




Interesting Items.


A RARELY-BLOOMING FLOWER.--In one of the conservatories at Hamilton
Palace gardens there is a fine specimen of the _Angeavia variegata_ in
full bloom. The tradition is, that the plant only flowers once in a
hundred years.


STEAM heating and electric lighting of trains is receiving very close
attention from a number of the leading railway managers in the United
States. On some roads the change has been decided upon, and cars are
being reconstructed on the new plans as rapidly as possible.


PILOTS' PAY.--From London to Gravesend the pilot's fee may range from
18s. to L7 18s., and from Gravesend to the Nore from L1 12s. to L7 8s.;
and while a vessel drawing less than seven feet of water is piloted from
the Downs to the Isle of Wight for L3 4s., one that draws twenty-five
feet will cost for the same distance, either way, as much as L14 6s.


ROMANISM in America is throwing off its sheep's clothing, and revealing
its wolfish nature. The following is an extract from one of its
journals, the _Western Watchman_--"Protestantism! We would draw and
quarter it. We would impale it and hang it up for crows' nests. We would
tear it with pincers, and fire it with hot irons. We would fill it with
molten lead, and sink it in hell fire a hundred fathoms deep." Only the
genius that invented the multiform cruelties of the Inquisition could
express itself in such an infernally varied vocabulary of torture.


THE WARRANT FOR BUNYAN'S LAST IMPRISONMENT.--Among the Chauncy
collection of autographs recently dispersed by Messrs. Sotheby, there
lay, hidden and unnoticed, the original warrant under which Bunyan was
apprehended for that third and final imprisonment of some six months'
duration, during which, according to his latest biographer, he wrote the
first part of "The Pilgrim's Progress." It fills a half-sheet of
foolscap, and is dated March 4th, 1674-5, under the hands and seals of
twelve justices, six of them, either then or in the Parliament of 1678,
members for county or borough, and three of whom had originally
committed him for the previous twelve years' imprisonment.


COMPOSITION DURING SLEEP.--Lord Thurlow told his nephew that, when
young, he read much at night, and that once, while at college, having
been unable to complete a particular line in a Latin poem he was
composing, it rested so on his mind that he dreamed of it, completed it
in his sleep, wrote it out next morning, and received many compliments
on its classical and felicitous turn. In my own experience, I have
imagined myself, during sleep, to be listening to instrumental music
quite new to me, and have been able to reproduce the melody next day;
and I have now in my possession a MS. copy of a Dead March composed by
the author, from whom I had it, in a dream.--_Correspondent of "Notes
and Queries._"


THE DANGERS OF EATING ORANGE PEEL.--It is a very bad habit to eat orange
peel. Nor is the juvenile habit of eating apples with the peel on to be
recommended either. Parents who do not care as yet to correct these evil
propensities will perhaps be more inclined to do so when they hear that
the little black specks which may be found on the skins of oranges and
apples that have been kept some time are clusters of fungi, precisely
similar to those to which whooping-cough is attributed. Dr. Tschamer, of
Graz, who has made the discovery, scraped some of these black specks off
an orange, and introduced them into his lungs by a strong inspiration.
Next day he was troubled with violent tickling in the throat, which by
the end of the week had developed into an acute attack of
whooping-cough.


A BRAVE CHILD.--One day recently at Sandown, while a gentleman was
showing his little girl how Lion, a splendid St. Bernard dog, and a
great favourite in the family, caught pieces of biscuit in his mouth,
the poor child stole up to put her arm round the dog's neck. Unhappily
Lion was so engrossed, he never heard the fairy footstep. Taking the
little face for a dainty morsel intended for him, he sharply closed his
large teeth in the tender cheek and nostril. Elsie bravely struggled to
conceal the blood which fast flowed from the wound, and assured her
mother without a tear that she was "far more frightened than hurt."
Lion, who had been taught to apologise for wrong-doing by standing up,
at once assumed that plaintive attitude, while Elsie entreated his
master not to punish him, as she knew "it was all a mistake." The little
face is still strapped up, but as the dog was perfectly healthy, the
only fear entertained is that a permanent mark may be left there. One
lasting impression was certainly made. The self-control and calmness of
the mother, who saw the sharp, sudden bite inflicted on her only child,
and the unflinching courage displayed by Elsie while she pleaded for the
dumb friend who had so unwittingly injured her, will never be forgotten
by Lion's master or any one who witnessed the unfortunate
incident.--_Lady's Pictorial._


THE GENERAL AND THE SPARROW.--General Robert E. Lee was one of the
bravest soldiers and ablest leaders of the Southern States armies in the
great American Civil War. Along with an almost culpable indifference to
danger he joined an intense love for animals and a deep feeling for the
helpless, as the following story will show. He was once visiting a
battery near Richmond, in Virginia, when the soldiers (with whom he was
immensely popular) crowded round him, and thus offered a good target for
the enemy's fire. Lee at once bade them retire to the rear, out of reach
of harm. The men did so, but--as if unaware of the risk he ran--he
walked across the yard, and picked up some object from the ground, and
put it on a tree branch above his head. It was afterwards found that
this object was an unfledged sparrow, which had fallen out of its nest,
and which the general had restored to its home at such imminent danger
to himself.


THE END OF A DOG'S QUARREL.--One day, a fine Newfoundland dog and a
mastiff had a sharp discussion over a bone, and warred away as angrily
as two boys. They were fighting on a bridge, and before they knew it,
over they went into the water. The banks were so high that they were
forced to swim some distance before they came to a landing-place. It was
very easy for the Newfoundlander. He was as much at home in the water as
a seal. But not so poor Bruce. He struggled and tried to swim, but made
little headway. The Newfoundland dog quickly reached the land, and then
turned to look at his old enemy. He saw plainly that his strength was
fast failing, and that he was likely to drown, so what should the noble
fellow do but plunge in, seize him gently by the collar, and, keeping
his nose above water, tow him safely into port. It was funny to see
these dogs look at each other as they shook their wet coats. Their
glance said as plainly as words, "We'll never quarrel any more."


THE following tragical story of a pen is deeply interesting, since to an
instrument in itself so humble the death of a little Liverpool schoolboy
is due. The lad, sitting at his desk at St. Anthony's School, saw on the
floor a piece of paper which he wished to pick up. To leave his right
hand free he put his pen in his breast pocket. He was sitting at the end
of a bench, from which, in stooping, he fell to the floor. The weight of
his body fell on the point of the pen. The nib pierced the poor little
fellow's heart. Amid the silent work of the writing lesson his cry of
agony rang out with startling effect, and a whole town, hearing of a
boy's death from such a cause, shares the painful surprise of the
school-room. The one ray of relief in this painful story shines over the
grief-stricken home. The public sympathy directed to this house, finds
it inhabited by a struggling widow, with four young children still
surviving. A subscription is forthwith got up for her benefit, and the
son's death is likely to be the means of saving the mother from
destitution.


THE Manchester Ship Canal will be a stone-banked stream, 25 feet in
depth, and at least 120 feet in width, supplied with numerous docks,
crossed by lofty bridges for trains, and swing-bridges for road traffic,
and forming a waterway in which the biggest steamships and sailing
vessels will be able to pass one another at a fair speed. It will be
wider and deeper than the Suez Canal, and will depend for its
construction chiefly on the huge steam excavators, which are a kind of
cross between cranes and the dredgers we see in rivers and harbours, and
which remove a cubic yard of soil at a time. It will enable Manchester
to send her calicoes direct to all quarters of the globe, and will tap
the chemical region of Runcorn, and the salt districts of Cheshire,
saving the present cost of transhipment of a million tons per annum of
the latter condiment. Nearly 20,000 men will find employment for the
next four years in the construction of this big canal for the passage of
ocean ships between Liverpool and Manchester. The first sod has been
quietly cut with a navvy's spade by Lord Egerton of Tatton, the chairman
of the company, in the presence of twenty directors and a few
shareholders, at Eastham, where the canal will lead out of the Mersey.


HANOVER BAPTIST SUNDAY SCHOOL, TUNBRIDGE WELLS.--The half-yearly meeting
of the above school was held on Wednesday, October 26th. The meeting was
presided over by the Superintendent, who in a few opening remarks urged
the parents to try and send their children to school in time, and in the
morning as well as the afternoon; after which the children recited their
various pieces to the Pastor, Mr. Newton. Mr. Botten then proceeded to
give away the rewards, which he said he hoped they would prize, and lend
to their brothers and sisters to read if they wanted them; and he hoped
they would never read the pernicious books and periodicals that found
such favour amongst boys in our day, but, if they were offered a book to
read, to show it to father and mother, and, if they did not mind their
reading it, then all right. In conclusion, he wished the teachers
God-speed in the work. Mr. Saltmarsh and Mr. House also gave parcels of
books away, and a pleasant meeting was brought to a close by singing the
hymn, "Around the throne of God in heaven," Mr. Newton concluding with
prayer. Each child received a bun on departing.

                                                  W. L. W.

[Illustration: "PAPER, SIR?" (_See page 26._)]




WHAT A TRACT MAY DO.


Often, as we journey from place to place by rail, we notice with
peculiar interest the newsboys at the different stations as they
politely inquire, "Paper, sir?" and, as we think what advantages they
have of reading the different kinds of papers and books which pass
through their hands, we wonder, as we look upon them, what kind of
reading they prefer, good or bad; and, from the appearance of many, we
fear it is the latter. We know that many young people of both sexes
prefer light, foolish, and fictitious books, over which they spend a lot
of their precious time, reading made-up tales--things that never
occurred--and we say, What a pity that they should thus waste their time
in doing worse than nothing, when they might be storing their minds with
useful knowledge!

We hope our young friend in the illustration is not one of these, for,
as we look upon his open and pleasant countenance, we are inclined to
believe he is not, in mind, of such a low order; and, while he may have
to carry books and papers which we should advise him never to read, we
can but reflect as to the power for good of such an agency, if used for
the spread of pure Scriptural truth. Oh, that it were so! Who can tell,
if good books and tracts were thus scattered, what good might result
therefrom?

We have read with pleasure, and here give to our readers, the following
narrative, showing the way the Lord sometimes signally blesses even the
giving of a tract to a stranger, and may many be encouraged to "go and
do likewise":--

Roger M---- was one of a family resident in the town of D----, where his
first days were spent, without anything remarkable taking place to
distinguish his boyhood from that of many around him. It was, however,
his privilege, though unvalued at the time, to receive religious
training in a Sabbath School. It is not known that at this period any
particular progress was made by him in any department of useful or of
religious knowledge. Indeed, his after-course would rather prove that,
like many who have enjoyed similar advantages, he grew up only to show
that, by nature, he possessed a heart averse from God, and prone to
depart from Him.

In the course of time Roger M----was placed with a respectable tradesman
of his native town, with a fair prospect of becoming acquainted with a
business in which he might have obtained an honest livelihood; but he
turned his back on his friends and prospects, and enlisted in the
marines. From his own lips the subsequent account of himself was
derived.

Year after year passed on, and though often engaged in scenes of carnage
and bloodshed, he was yet wonderfully preserved both from wounds and
death. At length, just on the eve of the battle of Waterloo, he was
drafted from his ship to take a part in that fearful and eventful
conflict. Amidst wounds and slaughter, and disabled and dying comrades,
he stood unscathed; and after the peace which followed on that memorable
victory, he was discharged from the service, and took up his residence
in the city of E----. Here, however, he only lived to prove how
ineffectual, of themselves, are the most terrible scenes savingly to
touch the rebellious heart of man, or even to awaken the mind to any
just sense of the amazing goodness and long-suffering of God,
independently of the grace and influence of the Holy Spirit. He spent
his days in a life of dissipation and drunkenness, unmoved by any
reflection on the past, or by any regard for the future. Yet was there
mercy in store for Roger M----. God's ways are not as our ways, neither
His thoughts as our thoughts.

Returning home one evening in a state of intoxication, a lady placed in
his hand a religious tract, which, by the mercy of God, he carried home,
and the next morning read. It is not easy to describe the state of
feeling that arose in his heart from its perusal. His own account of
that moment was deeply affecting. Conviction of sin, remorse, alarm of
conscience, strong desire after peace and pardon, the cry of the jailor,
"What must I do to be saved?"--all, in tumultuous conflict, agitated his
spirit. Day after day, week after week, he sought relief to his mind,
and direction to his anxious heart, by entering various places of
worship in the city. At length in a little chapel he found that which
his soul longed for. The word of peace, the glad tidings of salvation
through the blood of Christ, came home with power to his heart, and he
obtained peace through believing.

Having become "a new creature in Christ Jesus," he next lived a new
life, and rendered up himself a living sacrifice to the great Redeemer.
As Roger M---- had pursued a course of sin unto death, so now he pursued
a course of obedience unto righteousness, the end of which is eternal
life. A new life had opened upon him, and as a soldier of the cross he
served Jesus Christ, his new Captain, with humble zeal and holy joy.

In the last interview which the writer had with him, his expressions of
overwhelming love to Jesus were most fervent. Tears of gratitude rolled
down his thin, furrowed cheeks as, with emphasis, and a feeling most
touching, he acknowledged the debt of love which he owed to his beloved
Lord. Never did the writer witness so strong an exhibition of heartfelt,
deep, religious feeling. Roger could speak of nothing but the unmerited
and wonderful love of his Lord and Saviour, and of His amazing goodness
in sparing and saving so vile a transgressor.

When the burst of feeling had a little subsided, he expressed a strong
desire to see his former teacher, then an aged Christian. An interview
was sought for him, that he might express his gratitude to his
instructor in the days of his youth, and thank him for all the good
counsels which had then been given him. Here, again, the sobs and tears
of the humble child of God burst forth anew, and the friend who
accompanied him was obliged to shorten the interview, from fear of the
consequences to both the old men. The scene will never be obliterated
from the memory of him who pens this recital, nor the conviction,
moreover, of the deep-seated piety and gratitude of the penitent
veteran.

One thing amongst others which Roger confessed was this--that, in the
midst of the conflicts in which he had been engaged, the lessons and
truths presented to him in the Sabbath School were constantly rushing
into his mind with indescribable freshness, producing a conflict there,
compared with which that without was as nothing. Yet, strange to say,
this resulted in no real conviction or conversion when the danger was
past. It was not till the little messenger of mercy had reached his
hand, and its truths, by divine mercy, touched his heart, that he became
a contrite sinner and humble suppliant at the feet of Jesus, and at
length was brought to know that, "being justified by faith," he had
"peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ" (Rom. v. 1).

One point in the character of this converted sinner remains to be
mentioned--that, although latterly so afflicted by entire deafness as to
require communication by means of writing, yet was he constant in his
attendance at the house of God, where, as one of the true circumcision,
he doubtless "worshipped God in the spirit, rejoiced in Christ Jesus,
and had no confidence in the flesh" (Phil. iii. 3).

He has long since gone to the unseen world to be with Jesus, "which is
far better."

This narrative affords no small encouragement to those who distribute,
even under unpromising circumstances, those leaves which are intended
for the healing of the soul. "Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou
shalt find it after many days." "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the
evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall
prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good"
(Eccles. xi. 6).




ANSWER TO SCRIPTURE ENIGMA.

(_Page 10._)


The Farmer is the Lord. "I am the true Vine, and My Father is the
Husbandman," said the Son, Jesus (John xv. i). The farm is the Bible,
and the sixty-six fields are the books thereof. The Bible is sown all
over with spiritual food, which is the Word of God, for His people.
Those people who seek after the Lord must have a will to come, and
patience to wait for an answer. There are some people who have the
Bible, but have no desire after the Lord; but they find other things
they think better of than seeking after the Lord. There are some people
who say they hate the Lord, and the Bible, and there is not a minister
that they will say a good word to. This, Jesus and His servants can
vouch for a truth. The people who live in those low-built houses are
those who are humble in the sight of the Lord; and not far from where
they dwell the ministers live, and they think it a great liberty to
speak a few words to the ministers, and, as for the Lord, they often
feel they dare not attempt to speak to Him. But the Lord says, in Luke
xii. 32, "Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure
to give you the kingdom." You would almost wonder how these people
exist; but they get a little help from the Lord now and then, which
keeps them alive.

And then it is said, one came to the Bible, and looked in the Book of
Ruth, but could not gather anything; and Christians cannot gather
anything from God's Word unless God opens it to them; and if they do not
get good out of one part of the Bible they go to another, and would be
glad to glean in either field of Ruth or Esther. In the end, the
labourer directed the gleaner to the forty-second field, and he gathered
handfuls (Luke xi. 9-13), and then he told others where to go to find
plenty of food.

                             MARY WILLERTON
                             (Aged 11 years).

_Corby, Grantham._

[This is the most correct answer received up to the time of going to
press.--ED.]




  BE GENTLE.


  There is a plant that in its cell
    All trembling seems to stand,
  And bends its stalk and folds its leaves
    From each approaching hand.

  And thus there is a conscious nerve
    Within the human breast,
  That from the rash and careless hand
    Shrinks and retires distressed.

  The pressure rude, the touch severe,
    Will raise within the mind
  A nameless thrill, a secret tear,
    A torture undefined.

  Oh, you whose nature is so formed
    Each thought refined to know,
  Repress the word, the glance, that wakes
    That trembling nerve to woe!

  And be it still your joy to raise
    The trembler from the shade;
  To bind the broken, and to heal
    The wound you never made.

  Whene'er you see the feeling mind,
    Oh, let this care begin!
  And though the cell be e'er so low,
    Respect the guest within.--L. H.




A BIBLICAL DISCOVERY.


Bible students will gladly read the account of a remarkable and
interesting discovery sent to the Council of the Egypt Exploration Fund
by their explorer, Mr. Flinders Petrie. He has apparently found the
remains of a royal palace, mentioned in the Bible as "Tahpanhes," and
referred to by the Father of History in his record of the adventures of
the first Greek colonists who, six hundred years before the Christian
era, settled in a corner of the northeastern Delta of Egypt.

These early Greeks conveyed to their countrymen the wisdom of the
Egyptians; and the science, art, and literature of the older
civilization was filtered through the artistic Greek intellect to the
western world.

Students of Egyptian and Greek history will take deep interest in this
discovery. But the finding of the remains of this royal palace appeals
to a more numerous and humbler class of students.

In the book of Jeremiah the Prophet, from chapter thirty-seven to
chapter forty-seven, the reader will find a graphic record of the events
that preceded, accompanied, and followed the destruction of Jerusalem by
Nebuchadnezzar. A great portion of the action of this story took place
in the country in which Mr. Petrie and his Arab labourers have been at
work for some time past.

After the tumults that followed the departure from Jerusalem of
Nebuchadnezzar with the captive Jews to Babylon, it was decided by
Johanan, against the advice and the prophecy of Jeremiah, to fly into
Egypt, the land of King Zedekiah's old ally. The princesses, and the
captains, and Jeremiah, were taken across the frontier by Johanan, and
hospitably received by Pharaoh Hophra, who installed his guests in the
royal residence in Tahpanhes. Jeremiah could not rest even in the
stronghold thus provided for himself and his countrymen by the kindness
of Hophra, and in the court-yard or square of the royal palace of
Tahpanhes he made a remarkable prophecy. Taking great stones in his
hands, and burying them in the pavement, the Prophet declared that in
that very spot King Nebuchadnezzar would spread his pavilion when he
came, with his destroying army, to punish the Jews, and to execute
vengeance on their Egyptian allies.

The prophecy, there is every reason to believe, was fulfilled. The
Babylonish conqueror invaded Egypt, and burnt Pharaoh's house at
Tahpanhes. Centuries have passed. The sand of the desert, and the mud of
old Nile, have swept over the site of the remarkable prophecy, and about
2,500 years after the death of the Prophet, an Englishman rolls away the
encrustations of time. He discovers the basement floor of the old
citadel--half prison and half palace. From the ruins he extracts slabs
of fine limestone covered with hieroglyphic inscriptions, figures of
captives delicately sculptured and painted, iron and bronze tools. In
the kitchen he finds pokers, and spits, and broken bottles. The room of
the little scullery maid is found almost intact. It contains a recess
with a sink and a bench for the ancient pots and pans.

Mr. Petrie's communication, which can be had from the Secretary of the
Egypt Exploration Fund, throws a strong light on the wondrous story in
the grand old Book which has been for centuries a household treasure in
English homes, and will be read with delight by all lovers of the Bible.


EVERY season of life has its appropriate duties.


THROUGH all our troubles, the tangled skein is in the hands of One who
sees the end from the beginning. He shall yet unravel all.




THE CHARCOAL BURNER'S STAR.

(_Concluded from page 9._)


Alfred was struck mute with surprise. Even the guide seemed astonished
at this unexpected welcome to the hut.

It was not until a minute or two after the voices had ceased that they
ventured to approach the entrance. When they did, they saw the charcoal
burner standing at the end of a rude table, formed of one broad deal
plank, supported by four legs, along one side of which were ranged three
boys between twelve and fourteen years old. Books and paper, with an
inkstand and pens, were lying on the table. It was a forest school.

The intruders again paused at a sight as unexpected as had been the
melody they had just heard. But their footsteps had caught the ears of
those within the hut.

"Who goes there?" asked the man, in a calm voice.

"Friends," replied both Alfred and the guide, and the latter added--

"Good evening, Gervais. It is only your friend Michel. I have brought
you a gentleman who is very anxious to see you."

"What is your pleasure with me, sir?" asked the charcoal burner, taking
off his woollen cap.

"First, to wish you a good evening, Monsieur Gervais; and next, to
apologize for my visit."

"Is there anything you wish to say in private?"

"Nothing very important; but----"

"These boys are in your way?"

"Oh, pray do not let me interrupt you! My business here is not of
sufficient consequence."

"We have done, sir. Indeed, our evening studies, and more particularly
our Scripture readings, have been prolonged rather beyond our usual
hour. We have only one more duty to fulfil, which we never omit. You
will excuse it, sir."

Without waiting for a reply, Gervais assumed a serious air. The boys
knelt down before the wooden bench on which they had been sitting.
Alfred, and even the guide, followed their example, and the woodman
offered up a brief, but solemn evening prayer; after which he pressed
affectionately the hands of the young herdsmen, and dismissed them with
a kind remembrance to their employers.

"Good-night, Monsieur Gervais!" said the boys cheerfully, and in an
instant they were all leaping up the heights beyond the fir trees, which
soon hid them from the sight of those who remained behind.

"I expected to find you alone, Monsieur Gervais," said Alfred, "and I
wished to put a question to you which is now very plainly answered by
the scene I have just witnessed. Two hours ago, I was with a party of
friends in the plain below, at some distance from this mountain. At
nightfall, when we saw the light of your furnace beginning to shine, we
said among ourselves, as we looked, with no small degree of interest,
upon this earthly star, as it seemed to us, 'What can the man be doing
who is watching by the side of this fire?' You see, sir, that I am
young, and you know that, at my age, good-humoured frolics are not
uncommon. 'I will soon know,' I said. Well, I mounted my horse
immediately, and rode at full speed to the foot of the mountain. And now
that I am here, I find that I have reason to rejoice in my freak,
Monsieur Gervais, since it has made me the witness of a most interesting
scene. These pens and paper, and these books--this one in
particular--afford sufficient evidence of the manner in which you have
passed the evening. Here, to my surprise, I have found, at this late
hour, in the deep recesses of the woods, on a wild and lofty mountain, a
school for useful learning in general, but more especially, as the
closing of the scene has informed me, for the most important of all
knowledge--that of the Creator who made, of the Son who redeemed, and of
the Holy Spirit who sanctifies us. You pass your evenings in pointing
out to these boys, who might otherwise be running wild along the
mountains and through the forests, like the beasts that perish, the only
way that leads to everlasting life. May I ask if you have any particular
interest in them? Are they your children, or are they employed by you in
your business?"

"No, sir," said the charcoal burner; "I am neither their father nor
their master. Alas! they have but one Father, which is in heaven. They
are orphans, sir, and are employed by the herdsmen. They remain here for
several months in the year, to assist in tending their cattle and their
goats, which are kept during the summer in the mountain pastures. They
are therefore serving an apprenticeship to the line of life for which
they are destined. But there are other things which are needful for
them, as well as learning to look after cows, and sheep, and goats; and
one thing more needful than all the rest, which they might learn to
neglect, were they left to themselves, without some one to lead them in
the right path, and to speak to them of the faith and love of the Lord
Jesus. It is true they are here far removed from the temptations which
they would meet with in towns, and even in villages; but Satan has his
snares in all parts--in the wilderness, where he dared to tempt the Son
of God Himself, as well as in the city, where, they say, his traps are
set so thickly that it is impossible to avoid them, unless the light of
God's Holy Spirit is shining on our path. But even here, had he no other
means of leading them astray, they might fall, by his devices, into the
worst of sins--the forgetfulness of God, and all they owe to Him. The
condition, then, of these poor boys has interested me very greatly. I
have prevailed upon their masters to let them come to me for two hours
every evening, as soon as the cows and goats are milked, and the sheep
are in the folds, when I endeavour, with God's help, to teach them to
read and write, and cast up an account; but, above all, to seek to find
out the Lord in His holy Word, and to pray to Him. For myself, too, it
is a profitable as well as a cheerful occupation in this solitude. I
wish, indeed, that I were able to have them longer with me each day, but
that our labours will not allow of. On Sundays, indeed, they have rather
less to do, and we take advantage of this to devote more time to the
service of God."

"_Rather_ less to do on Sundays!" said Alfred. "Is the Lord's Day, then,
made only partially a day of rest?"

"Sir," replied Gervais, "there are works of _absolute necessity_ which
require our attention, here in the mountains, nearly as much on the
Lord's Day as on the other days of the week. We do not cut wood on the
Sabbath Day, but my fire must not be allowed to go out. It must be kept
constantly burning till the operation is complete. So far, indeed, it
affords a lesson of holy instruction to my young pupils as well as
myself, and shows us the necessity of the flame of Christian love, and
faith, and hope being kept alive in our hearts, even when pursuing our
daily occupations. Then those who have the charge of cattle and sheep
must attend to their wants, or the poor creatures would suffer sadly by
their neglect. It takes up a large portion of the day to milk the cows
and the goats, and I dare say you can understand that, to say nothing of
the loss their owners would incur were this omitted, the poor beasts
themselves would suffer bitterly from bodily pain and disease."

"I ought to have thought of this, as I am myself learning to be a
farmer," observed Alfred. "But do you not draw any spiritual improvement
for your scholars from this?"

"Oh, yes, sir! I show them how Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is constantly
feeding and caring for _His_ flock, watching over them, and keeping the
young lambs from going astray; carrying them in His bosom, and giving
them the bread of life to eat, and the waters of everlasting comfort to
drink."

"And are your kind instructions confined to these three boys?"

"Not altogether, sir. Most of their masters, when their necessary work
is done, come with such of their servants as can be spared, on the
evening of the Lord's Day; and, as we have no pastor up here to teach us
in the way of holiness, we join together in prayer. We sing 'psalms, and
hymns, and spiritual songs,' and we 'search the Scriptures,' and nourish
our souls with the holy Word of God. Most of them, I assure you, sir,
are very seriously disposed, and love to hear me talk to them of the
Lord Jesus, and tell them of all He has done to save sinners, to take
away their sin, to give them repentance, and everlasting life after
death."

"And it is thus you have been passing your time," exclaimed Alfred,
"when some of my thoughtless young friends below fancied you might be
drinking or smoking while you were watching your fire. Happy man! These
solitudes are no solitudes to you. How far more profitably, how far more
pleasantly, are you employed than the greater number of those who live
in the world! I must entreat you to pardon my having intruded upon you,
I am ashamed to say, from a motive of mere curiosity. But see how God
often causes even our follies and weaknesses to turn out to our profit.
I have learned a lesson that I trust, by His grace, I shall never
forget. It has taught me that every godly man has a part assigned to him
for others as well as for himself, to show forth the great salvation
that Christ brought upon earth. You are diligently fulfilling your part.
You have prayed for work, and our great Master has mercifully provided
it for you. You are laying up treasure for yourself in heaven, while
many of those who would be inclined to pity your worldly position are
wasting their lives in idleness and sin, neglecting the work they might
do, and burying in the earth the talent committed to their charge.
Numbers there are in the world who are attempting to secure to
themselves a memorial among posterity, by erecting hospitals and
schools, while you are consecrating this little hovel to God in a way
that might never have been known in this world, but which will not be
forgotten by the Lord 'in the day when He maketh up His jewels.'"

As he said this, Alfred cast his eyes round the hut, and fixed them upon
an open chest which stood in one corner, supported upon one or two short
beams of wood, to preserve the contents from the damp.

"You are not unprovided with books, I see, besides those that lie on the
table."

"We have indeed a little library there, sir," replied Gervais. "It is
very small, but quite equal to our wants. You would find there 'The
Histories of the Old and New Testaments,' 'The Imitation of Jesus
Christ,' 'The History of France,' 'Robinson Crusoe,' and a few others.
Would you like to look at the writing of these boys, sir?"

Alfred examined some copy-books lying on the table, and could not help
expressing his surprise at the progress the lads appeared to have made
in three short months. Then, looking at his watch, he said--

"I fear I have overstayed my time, but before I go I have yet a duty to
perform. While I congratulate you most sincerely on the success with
which God seems to have blessed your endeavours in behalf of these
destitute youths, I must add that the interest which the idea of your
isolated situation excited among the party I left in the plain below was
such that they said I ought not, without some good reason, to intrude
upon you, and desired me to bring this little offering to you, begging
of you to accept it, in token of their good-will."

Vainly, however, did the young man press the offering upon the charcoal
burner. He absolutely refused it.

"Money!" said he; "for what? From whom does it come? Excuse me, sir, but
you must recollect that you are quite a stranger to me. I do not even
know your name."

Alfred looked greatly disappointed, but replied that his name was Alfred
de Blenal.

"What! the son of Madame de Blenal, of ----?"

"The same."

"You are no longer a stranger, sir. Your excellent mother's piety and
benevolence are well known to all the country around. Well, sir, as you
seem distressed by my refusal, I will accept your liberal offer, but not
for myself. I will only take it as trustee for these three boys, to be
applied to their future maintenance, till they are able to support
themselves."

"Excellent man!" replied Alfred, deeply affected. "This sum will hardly
be sufficient for your benevolent purpose, and it will give us pleasure
to make it up to such an amount as may be required. I have promised to
return to the persons who are expecting me by midnight, and I fear they
will be uneasy at my prolonged absence. Take it, then, Monsieur Gervais,
and whenever you require a little more money for the good works you may
find occasion to perform in your neighbourhood, do not fail to put me
under contribution. I shall tell my friends all I have seen and heard,
and be assured that they will envy me my good fortune. Farewell, and
remember that, by applying to me when you want anything, either for
yourself or others, you will only prove that I have inspired you with
sentiments of esteem and friendship."

Saying this, Alfred gave the charcoal burner a cordial embrace, and
departed.

The thoughts of Michel, the guide, as he descended the mountain, were
very different from those with which he had gone up. He was an altered
man from that night.

Midnight had passed. The supper was waiting at Madame de Blenal's. The
guests were beginning to be impatient, some from hunger, some from
curiosity, but more from anxiety. Had he miscalculated the distance? Had
he mistaken the way? Had he met with an accident? The former conjectures
were spoken aloud; the latter was only whispered by some who were not
within Madame de Blenal's hearing. She herself remained silent, but
perfectly calm. We do not say that the mother's heart was free from
anxiety, but there was a remedy within it which served as a preventive
against all idle and unnecessary fears. The eye of God was upon her son,
and she knew that his own trust was fixed upon His saving arm. She knew,
too, that, although full of the spirit and buoyancy of youth, he would
avoid the sin of running into needless danger. If an accident had
detained him, it was permitted as a trial of her faith, and she was
prepared to submit.

The impatience of the party was just beginning to reach its height, when
the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard. Every eye was turned to the
door, which was soon opened, and Alfred stood before them, smiling,
cheerful, and uninjured, though in a condition that at first occasioned
some alarm, but soon excited a burst of laughter.

"Here is ocular proof," cried one, "that he has seen the charcoal
burner."

"And been at close quarters with him," said another. "He is covered with
soot."

"Why, Mr. Alfred," said a young lady, "one would think you had embraced
him!"

"I have, mademoiselle, and I am not ashamed of owning it. Had you seen
what I have, you would have done the same, without considering your
dress."

"Why, what have you seen?" was asked by more than one.

"I have found a preacher of righteousness, 'a teacher of babes,' in the
forest--one who is an example to us all--and I have learned that,
whatever our station in life may be, we may do good service to our
Lord."

Alfred then gave a full detail of his adventure.

"So then," said the old lady who had decided the question about the
money, "while we were indulging in foolish conjectures, and idly jesting
about this worthy man, he was engaged in the pious task of teaching
young boys to read God's holy Word, and the eye of that God was upon us
all. My dear young friends, this is a lesson which I trust you will
never forget. I see by your looks that it has produced its effect, and
given birth to serious thoughts in your hearts. God has caused your
inconsiderate frolic to turn out well, and I suspect that this will be a
happy day for the pupils of Gervais. The orphans will not want
protectors. Now let us go to supper. Our friend Alfred must be hungry
after his ride, and he has well earned his meal."

These words, together with the circumstances that gave rise to them,
made a deep and salutary impression upon the hearers. The supper passed
cheerfully, and the conversation turned upon what could best be done for
the charcoal burner and the poor orphans. Many plans were proposed, and
at last one was suggested which met with general approbation.

The young men, in consequence, all visited the mountain forest and the
hut, which, under their exertions and superintendence, soon disappeared,
and a comfortable chalet rose in its place, in which Gervais continued
for many summers to pursue his useful labours, and more than one or two
successive generations of boys owed their teaching to him, and their
establishment in the world to the care of the patrons whom Alfred's
visit had, by God's mercy, raised up for them.




FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.


In a conversation with the late Richard de Courcy, John Berridge
observed that he had, for many years, been preaching up self, but not
Christ Jesus the Lord:--

I was a length of time in Arminian fetters. John and Charles Wesley got
me into their cradle, and the devil kept rocking; but the Holy Spirit,
in a most remarkable manner, delivered me from the sleep of sin by
slaying the legality of my heart. I used to lament the unprofitableness
of my preaching, and though I was a dealer in fire and brimstone, I
could make no impression on my hearers.

One day, my man Thomas was sawing a sturdy piece of oak, and, as I was
standing by him, he threw down his saw, and turning to me, said,
"Master, I must give this job up; it is so knotty." I took up the saw,
and said, "Tom, let me try"; and to work I went, and, being of muscular
strength, I soon overcame the difficulty.

It occurred to me, when leaving the field, that my preaching resembled
Tom's sawing, and these words were impressed on my mind--"Who art thou,
O great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain." I
returned to my chamber, and poured out my heart to the Lord. A
conviction arose in my mind that the work that God alone can perform I
looked for the creature to produce. On reflection, I found the drift of
my preaching for twenty years had been to tell the sinner to put the key
into the lock of the door, so as to open it. I never thought of my
Beloved putting His hand by the hole of the door, nor of applying to Him
who has the keys of David, who "openeth, and no man shutteth; and
shutteth, and no man openeth."

On the Sunday following, I took my text from Isaiah--"Ye also made a
ditch between two walls, for the water of the old pool; but ye have not
looked unto the Maker thereof, neither had respect unto Him."

From that time God the Holy Ghost has given me better tools for my
workmanship. In addressing those whose hearts are unrenewed and
unchanged, I make no propositions or calls. I cry aloud, and lift up my
voice, and show my people their transgressions and their sins. I then
turn from the unconverted, and implore my Master to take the work in
hand, to convince of sin, and to lead them to Christ. With uplifted eyes
and outstretched arms I cry, "Lay hold of these rebels, O Lord, as the
angel did of lingering Lot, and overcome them by Thy omnipotent power,
so as to lay down their arms to come in, that Thy house may be filled."
John Berridge can do nothing but say, "Awake, O arm of the Lord!" This
is my province; a step further I cannot, I dare not, go.

For the last twelve years the Lord has, in a most wonderful manner,
displayed the riches of His grace in giving me innumerable seals to my
ministry, both in town and country--trophies of mercy, as studs in the
Mediatorial crown of my dear Redeemer.

                                           OLD EVERTON.

[Oh, that there were more such preachers in the present day!]


  When bold, presumptuous men stand up,
    And fain would make believe
  That they are teachers sent of God,
    And thus poor souls deceive,

  They should, by every God-taught soul,
    Be faithfully withstood,
  If aught they bring to us as truth
    But Jesus and His blood.

  Such men as these the Word declares
    Shall come, and shall deceive;
  But sinners, truly born of God,
    Will not such men receive.

  If possible, we know they would
    Deceive Thine own elect;
  But, bless Thy precious name, dear Lord,
    Thou wilt Thine own protect.

  How solemn is the thought to me--
    Such men may think they're right,
  Yet their profession will, if left,
    End in eternal night!

  "Depart, ye cursed!" will be said
    By lips that cannot lie;
  "Since you have hated Me and Mine,
    Your doom is now to die.

  "You see, though now it is too late,
    The oil-less lamp won't do;
  The door against you now is shut;
    There is no passing through."

  My soul, reflect! How stands the case
    With me, a helpless sinner?
  I cannot hope to win the race;
    But Jesus is my Winner.

  I never should have sought to Thee,
    Dear Lord, Thou knowest well,
  If Thou hadst not first called me,
    And plucked my feet from hell.

                                      B. W.




BIBLE SUBJECTS FOR EACH SUNDAY IN FEBRUARY.


Feb. 5. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 7.
Feb. 12. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 8.
Feb. 19. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 9.
Feb. 26. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 10.


PUT heart in your work, whatever it is. If it be the lowliest, simplest
little task, it will be ennobled by your doing it well and cheerfully,
and taking real pleasure in it.




"THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS."

(ZECHARIAH iv. 10.)


The second temple was much smaller than, and very inferior to, the
first, and from it were wanting the ark, the Shechinah glory, the sacred
fire, and the Urim and Thummim. Hence we read that, when it was erected
and dedicated, the older men that had seen the former temple wept (Ezra
iii. 12). Compared with that, the second temple saw but a "day of small
things" (Hag. ii. 3).

And thus do we sometimes speak of the days of childhood and youth, and
rightly so. Young people are small in stature and little in ability.
Their minds are not much cultivated at present, their faculties
undeveloped. Their views of things are narrow and circumscribed. They
have seen and know but little of the world, or, indeed, of anything at
all. But children are not to be despised on that account. We who are
older must not think depreciatingly of them, nor should the young
depreciate themselves--their abilities, their time, their opportunities.
Do not waste your precious moments, for yours is a golden age, which
will quickly pass away, and can never return.

Do not imagine that you are too young to exert any influence over others
for good or harm. You may, and do, influence not only your companions,
but many older people also. As children and youths are old enough to
sin, they are old enough also to be impressed by the Spirit of God--yea,
even savingly converted, if God so will it.

Not long ago, a very little boy, dying, was heard to say, "Oh, Lord
Jesus, please make room for a little boy!" and I doubt not, his prayer
was as real and as acceptable to God as was that of the dying
malefactor, "Lord, remember me," &c. Another dear little fellow said,
"If I ever get to heaven, I'll go straight up to Jesus, throw my arms
around His neck, and say, 'I'm come! I'm come!'"

Very little things are not without their importance or value. The earth
is nourished all summer by tiny dew-drops. The greatest mountains, even
huge Chimilari, towering five and a half miles into the clouds, and all
the other peaks in the Himalaya and Andes ranges, are formed of tiny
molecules of earthy matter.

Take a lesson from the coral formations. These are the work of a very
little creature called a _polype_, or sea-anemone. Recent research has
led to the discovery of much that is highly interesting respecting these
little creatures. One polype, fixing its minute body to the rocky bottom
of the sea, discharges a chalky secretion, which gradually grows up a
branched trunk. The end of each branch is terminated by another polype;
and thus it divides and multiplies itself, until a huge mass of red
coral is formed. The more common white coral is similarly produced.

Beware of what are called "little sins." Do not think them mere trifles.
Bad in themselves, they likewise extend and grow into habits. These,
once acquired, will hold you down with the force of a mighty chain.

Of late years vine-stocks have been imported from America into France
and Italy. Upon these a tiny insect, called _phylloxera_, has been
found--so small that thirty-three of them placed lengthwise would not
measure more than an inch; and yet so destructive have these tiny things
proved, and so rapidly have they been known to spread, that they have
been the destruction of more than a million acres of vines.

One has well observed that "a great sin committed once shows where the
devil has been; but petty sins, nourished into a habit, show where the
devil lives."

[Illustration: "HER FATHER'S BAD WAYS MADE HER LIFE HARD." (_See page
38._)]

One of the discoveries of modern medical science is, that the disease
known as cholera may be produced by a microscopic insect (the _Conina
Bacillus_) being taken into the stomach inadvertently with our food.
This minute creature propagates with enormous rapidity in the blood,
until that terrible malady is the result. Thus many great things are
developed from the very smallest--not only great evils, but great
blessings also.

In doing good, we must not despise "the day of small things." The
beginnings, though imperfect and weak, are not without their own
peculiar value, and ultimately they lead on to excellence.

Travellers on the continent are often struck by the contrast exhibited
between two paintings which are shown in the museum at Rotterdam. The
one is exceedingly poor--a mere daub. The most enthusiastic connoisseur
cannot discover in it any mark of genius. The other painting is a grand
work of art, almost priceless in value. Yet, strange to say, the same
painter executed both--the celebrated Rembrandt. The first illustrates
the commencement of his career as an artist; the other is a masterpiece,
while many years of earnest, patient toil intervened.

There must be a beginning to all things, and many dear Sabbath scholars
have been instrumental of good to their parents and friends. I will
mention one instance of this, selected from scores which have come under
notice at different times.

In a miserable home there once resided a drunken father, with one girl,
his only child. Of course, he took no particular interest in her
welfare, either body or soul. But some kind friend got her to attend a
Sabbath School. There she was brought to know and love the Saviour, and
often during the week, while attending to the house, she was known to
sing the sweet hymns she had learned. This was her only comfort, for her
father's bad ways made her life hard.

One day, when she was thus occupied, her father was in another room,
sleeping off his drunkenness. On awaking, he heard the little maid
singing--

"There is a happy land,
  Far, far away."

The Lord was pleased to use these words for another awakening. The grace
of God touched his heart, and he said to himself, "Yes, it must be far
away for her, poor thing; it cannot be here with me." That thought came
from God. It melted his frozen heart, brought him to his knees, caused
him to utter strong cries for mercy, led him to ask his little daughter
to explain the way of salvation, and ultimately he was enabled to
rejoice in pardoning mercy.

Dear young Gleaners, may the Lord thus be pleased to bless the reading
of the LITTLE GLEANER, and the instruction imparted in the Sabbath
School, first to your own soul, and then make you a similarly honoured
instrument of good to others.

                                A. E. REALFF.

_Dunstable._


GOD never wrought miracles to convince atheism, because His ordinary
works convince it.


A SUNNY, happy face naturally, is worth a world of recipes upon
cheerfulness. Only let one possessing it come into a room where there
are a number of melancholy souls, and see how soon the magnetic
influence begins to relax the lines of care around the mouth and eyes of
the burdened ones, and the light of forgotten smiles to illumine the
dark faces! The very breath of summer has blown through the room,
bringing the breath of meadow sweets on its wings.




HOW A GREAT MISTAKE WAS DISCOVERED.

A TRUE INCIDENT.


My grandmother was always looked upon by those who knew her as a good
Churchwoman, a dutiful wife, an affectionate mother, and a good
neighbour. She attended the services and partook of the Sacrament
regularly, visited the sick, gave alms to the poor, and was generally
regarded as a very religious, upright, consistent, and exemplary person.
Yet, notwithstanding this outward goodness, her mind was not at rest.
Her religion yielded no joy, her service brought no satisfaction. Nor
could it be otherwise, for, instead of it being the spontaneous outflow
of a heart constrained by love, it was as a task imposed--a duty
performed in the hope of pleasing God, and meriting His favour, and in
this way obtaining peace and rest to her soul.

Poor grandmother! These were "deadly doings"; but she knew it not, for
her eyes were blinded by the god of this world (Satan), and her
unsuccessful attempts to procure peace by these means often left her
depressed in spirit and cast down in mind. But God had better things in
store for her, although it was by no ordinary means that He was pleased
to make known to her His more excellent way.

One Sunday, she went to church as usual, and took part in the singing
and prayers, which were performed in the same mechanical order as at
other times. It was not until the text was read out that her attention
was particularly aroused; but this so arrested her that it all seemed to
be intended for herself. The words, "Ye must be born again," uttered by
the lips of an unconverted preacher, were made the message of God to her
soul, but not as yet the message of peace. Her conscience was troubled,
and as the words of the text were revolved in her mind, and the
necessity of the new birth laid hold upon her heart, she trembled in her
seat, and all her fancied goodness fled away; for here was Nicodemus, a
good man, a teacher of religion, a pattern of morality, being told by
the Lord Jesus that he must be "born again," or he could not enter
heaven. She could see now that her almsgiving and church-going would not
satisfy the righteous claims of a just and holy God.

She had made a most blessed discovery--that she was a lost sinner,
"having no hope, and without God in the world." She returned home in
great distress of mind, and so continued until the next day. These
painful exercises then showed no signs of abatement, for the words of
the text kept ringing in her ears; so, on the morrow, as early as
convenient, she sought an interview with the clergyman, in the hope that
he might be able to minister relief to her troubled heart.

But "woe unto you, ye blind guides!" The only counsel he could give was,
to remind her of her good deeds, her consistent life, her regular
attendance at church, &c., urging her to be calm and to banish from her
mind these distressing thoughts, as there was not the slightest
foundation for her fears. But this only increased her trouble, and she
cried out, in great anguish of soul, "Tell me how I can be 'born again'!
Tell me over again what you were telling the people yesterday." As she
earnestly entreated him thus, he became greatly perplexed, for, alas!
the sermon he had preached the day previous was borrowed, and had since
been returned to its owner; so, in much confusion, he had to confess his
inability to help her; but said he, "You must get into cheerful company,
read lively books [at the same time offering to lend her some of
Shakespeare's plays], and these impressions will soon wear off." But the
solemn words from John iii. 7 were fastened in her mind by the "Master
of Assemblies," to bring forth their fruit in due season.

My grandmother left the minister in great despair, which continued and
increased to such an extent that eventually it became necessary to
remove her to an asylum, and her cries of distress were heartrending,
her incessant and unchanging cry being, "I must be 'born again'! Tell me
how I must be 'born again'!" But strange as it may appear, this was
God's way of bringing her both mental and spiritual relief. A Christian
lady who visited the asylum became acquainted with her case, and
learning that there were times when grandmother was quieter and more
herself, she resolved, if possible, to enlist the co-operation of a
godly minister of her acquaintance; and having made it a matter of
prayer, the way was soon open for him to see her, and the visit was made
with the happiest results.

As the glorious Gospel message was set before her, in simple and earnest
language, she listened with rapt attention, and drank in the blessed
truth which was soon to become the power of God unto her salvation.
After this visit she was a little restless at times, but as the truth
entered her soul, and she was enabled by "precious faith" to lay hold
upon Christ, her fears all vanished, and she gradually became more calm
and peaceful. She was led to see that peace was made for her by the
"blood of the cross," and not by her works; and, "being justified by
faith, she had peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ."

She had now known and experienced the blessed change so long sought, and
which might have been set forth at her first awakening had a wise
counsellor been at hand. The change wrought in her soul was very real,
and acted so beneficially upon her mind that shortly afterwards she was
able to return to her home and friends, to tell "what great things the
Lord had done unto her." The remainder of her life was one of settled
peace and joy, fruitful in good works, and abounding in thanksgiving and
praise to God.

Dear reader, how is it with you? Have you experienced this great change?
Remember, nothing but reality will do for God and eternity. Neither
education, morality, reformation, nor religious profession, can take the
place of the new birth. "They that are in the flesh cannot please God."
There must be a new life and a new power communicated, in which to love
and serve God; and this can only be "by the washing of regeneration and
renewing of the Holy Ghost." "Except a man be born again, he cannot see
the kingdom of God" (John iii. 3).--_Selected._




THE ENEMIES OF GOD AND OF HIS PEOPLE SCATTERED.


As the anniversary of the defeat of the Spanish Armada is to be
celebrated this year, the following anecdote may not be uninteresting to
our readers, as showing a like providence in the case of New England
Christians.

Dr. Wisner remarks that the destruction of the French armament, under
the Duc D'Auville, should be remembered with gratitude and admiration by
every inhabitant of America. This fleet consisted of forty ships of war,
and was destined for the destruction of New England. It sailed from
Chebucto, in Nova Scotia, for that purpose. In the meantime the godly
people, apprized of their danger, had appointed a season of fasting and
prayer to be observed in all their churches.

While Mr. Prince was officiating in Old South Church, Boston, on the
fast day, and praying most fervently that the dreaded calamity might be
averted, a sudden gust of wind arose (the day till then had bean
perfectly calm)--so violent as to cause a loud clattering of the
windows. The pastor paused in his prayer, and, looking round upon the
congregation with a countenance of hope, he again commenced, and, with
great ardour, supplicated the Almighty to cause that wind to frustrate
the object of their enemies.

A tempest ensued, in which the greater part of the French fleet was
wrecked. The Duc D'Auville, the principal general, and his second in
command, both committed suicide. Many died from disease, and thousands
found a watery grave.

A late President remarks--"I am bound, as an inhabitant of New England,
to declare, were there no other instance than the above to be found, the
blessings communicated on the occasion now referred to would furnish
ample proof, concerning answers to prayer, to every sober and
intelligent man."




A HINT TO PARENTS.


In writing upon the education of the young, a thoughtful writer has made
the following observations:--

"The little triumphs and successes of the young mind should never be
lightly passed over without a token of just and fitting praise from the
lips of its parents. The love of approbation is one of the strongest
incentives to improvement and industry which the Creator has implanted
in the human mind. In the child, this feeling is very predominant; and,
if disappointed of its justly-earned tribute, will be checked, and the
child disheartened and mortified.

"Benjamin West relates that he owed his success in life to the fond kiss
of delighted approval bestowed on him by his mother, on his bringing her
a rude production of his pencil when quite a little boy. 'That kiss,'
said the great artist, 'made me a painter.'

"Praise, then, when merited, should never be withheld. It is the
chief--indeed, generally the only--recompense to which children look;
and it is a bitter and injudicious cruelty to deprive them of it. The
approval and the censure of its parents and teachers should, in this
sense, be the guiding stars of a child's existence. But care should be
taken that neither should be bestowed carelessly or with partiality, so
as to induce vanity, or, on the other hand, bitterness of feeling."




BIBLE ENIGMA.


An Apostle employed as a messenger.

The son of Zephaniah.

A disciple called "the chamberlain of the city."

A place whence gold was brought to the temple.

An idol of Damascus.

He who arrested a prophet that was put into a dungeon.

Who said, "The Lord is good, a Stronghold in the day of trouble," &c.?

A disciple who dwelt at Troas.

A sorcerer struck blind.

The name given to the sockets for fastening the stones in the ephod.

That without which it is impossible to please God.

The place where one was struck dead for touching the ark.

Aaron's wife.

The Syriac name for "Father."

The Epistle where the words are--"Ye are not your own," &c.

The place to which Samson gave a name, where he quenched his thirst
after slaying the Philistines.


Total--one of the titles of Christ, used prophetically.


LOW expense is the highway to fortune.




THE SIXTH ANNUAL CHRISTMAS GATHERING OF EBENEZER SUNDAY SCHOOL,
HASTINGS.


Year succeeds year and marks the flight of time, and, in its flight,
leaves the impress of many changes, proving to every thoughtful mind
that "here we have no continuing city." But, amid the changes of life,
the Lord encourages His people to wait upon Him; and none need to do so
more than they who are engaged in the work of spreading His truth,
whether among old or young; and when the spirit of prayer is kept alive
in their midst, they are not without testimony that "the Lord is with
them." These thoughts were in the minds of some who witnessed the
assembling of the scholars of this school on December 27th, and they
marvelled how any God-fearing man or woman can feel indifferent to the
welfare of the young, or look on unmoved as they assemble together. To
some of us these gatherings are as "the solemn assembly." We see an
eager, expectant throng, seeking for that which shall please them--for
the most part, seemingly unconscious, for the time at least, that they
have immortal souls that must live in eternal happiness or eternal
misery, and, therefore, without a knowledge of their state before God.
We see our own children, and yearn over them in prayer before God, and,
like Ezra, we would "afflict ourselves before God" to seek a right way
for ourselves and our little ones.

The scholars assembled in the chapel, as usual, at half-past two, when
the proceedings were opened by a short address from our Pastor and
President, Mr. T. Hull. Many friends encouraged us by their presence,
though the severe weather considerably influenced their number.

As soon as a hymn had been sung, Mr. Hull read and expounded the first
Psalm, showing the character of that man whom God had pronounced
blessed. He then earnestly besought the Lord's blessing, and followed it
by a few words on the preciousness of truth.

The report was then read by the Secretary, Mr. Ellis, and again proved
to be of a most interesting and encouraging character. The steady
increase that marked the earlier years of this school has been
continuous, the number on the register now being 250, showing an
increase of sixteen during the year. The average attendance has been 153
in the morning, and 194 in the afternoon, as compared with 135 and 169
in 1886. The highest single attendance was 223. Two scholars have been
lost by death, and one teacher by removal.

We give an extract from the report, as expressing the earnest feeling of
those engaged in the work--"To record an increase in numbers is
pleasing, as showing outward success; but the success we desire is, that
our scholars may be brought to a knowledge of the Lord, that God's truth
may be established in their hearts, and that many that meet with us now
may bless the Lord for the instrumentality of Ebenezer Sunday School."

The financial statement showed a balance in hand of L5 16s. 7d. This
would be to December 1st, the date to which the accounts are made up,
and, therefore, leaves the expenses of this day, with the prizes, to be
met by the balance in hand, which, of course, is quite inadequate. But
the executive feel sure that the same kind thoughtfulness that has put
them beyond anxiety in the past will not be wanting in the future. The
expenses of the year have been L34 11s. 4d.; the income L32 10s., which,
added to the balance brought forward from last year, makes L40 8s.

Several addresses were next given, and listened to with marked
attention. The Superintendent, Mr. J. Trimming, spoke of his own
feeling in the work, and how earnestly he looked for the blessing of the
Lord; the anxiety he felt for the young, and the vast importance of
putting a right value on the Word of God.

Mr. R. Funnell, who is in his seventy-eighth year, was most
enthusiastically received. He is a pattern of diligence and earnestness
in everything connected with the welfare of this school and Church. He
very nicely used the illustration of Elijah gathering the people on
Mount Carmel, as showing his thoughts on Sunday School work. Though we
may build altars, yet, if no living fire comes down from heaven, no
saving work will be accomplished.

Mr. Poole enforced the importance of taking heed to both what we read
and what we hear, and to treasure up the Word, that it might be of
profit.

Mr. Ellis, the Secretary, followed with a few affectionate and earnest
words, at the close of which, Mr. Hull proceeded to distribute the
prizes--the most interesting event of the afternoon. Before distributing
to the scholars, Mr. Hull called on three teachers, namely, Miss P.
Funnell, Miss M. Funnell, and Mr. Jesse Vine, to receive a present from
their respective classes--a proceeding most heartily received by the
whole school. And now, class after class filed past the President to
receive the book prize awarded to them; and though the list was long,
and the recipients many, he had a kindly word for all. Mr. Hull does not
spare himself on these occasions, and by his pithy remarks and
enforcement of precepts, suggested by the proceedings, contributes in no
small degree to the success of the gathering.

Tea was now announced, the arrangements for which--both for scholars and
friends--were excellent, and most heartily did the assembly respond to
the invitation.

At the close of the tea, the scholars again took their places in the
chapel, and proceeded to carry out a plan wholly devised and arranged by
the Superintendent. In introducing the subject, Mr. Trimming spoke of
the importance of the study of the Word of God--a study which he had
reason to fear was sadly neglected; and with a view to show the Word of
God as a harmonious whole, and to bring into prominence the Book of
Proverbs, he had prepared a subject, or a series of subjects, which he
called, "The Crown of Glory." He read Proverbs iv. 7-9, as the basis of
his plan. In a crown there are precious stones, the precious stones in
this crown being--first, the fear of the Lord; secondly, repentance;
thirdly, seeking God; fourthly, shunning evil; fifthly, obedience to
instruction; sixthly, waiting upon God; seventhly, acknowledging God's
sovereignty; eighthly, truthfulness and honesty; ninthly, guards for the
temper; tenthly, guards for the tongue; eleventhly, God's power over all
hearts; twelfthly, true friendship.

To illustrate and bring out into bold relief each of these precious
stones, each class had prepared portions of Scripture, hymns, or poems
to recite as each subject was announced. It must have repaid the
Superintendent for all the trouble he had taken, and given the friends
much pleasure to hear the manner in which the different classes
acquitted themselves, the Young Men's Bible Class especially. Throughout
the entire proceedings, hymns, specially selected for the occasion, were
nicely sung by the scholars, and contributed much to the heartiness of
the gathering.

The school-room was decorated in the usual manner, namely, with garments
destined for distribution among the deserving poor. These garments have
been made, as in former years, by the scholars and friends--in fact, the
School Dorcas is now an established institution, and shows what may be
done by kind hearts and nimble fingers.

The meeting was brought to a close, shortly before nine o'clock, with
the usual acknowledgments, the singing of "Shall we meet beyond the
river?" and prayer, every one feeling that another pleasant and
profitable meeting had been held.

                                                C. E.




OUR BIBLE CLASS.

PSALM XXXII.


With our Bibles open before us, dear young friends, we will try to make
a few comments on this portion of Scripture. But let us first turn to
Psalm li., for there is the sad confession of sin which went before this
joyful song of "Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven." This
first verse is a shout of joy and gratitude. Oh, the happiness--the
indescribable happiness--of the forgiven sinner!

Four words are used to describe wrong-doing and guilt: _transgression_,
or trespass--a venturing on forbidden ground; _sin_--a failing, or
falling short of goodness; _iniquity_ (second verse), wilfulness,
rebellion; and _guile_--deceit and falsehood.

And here are four pictures of God's saving love. _Forgive_ means "forth
give." Pardon flows forth freely and fully from the heart of God to all
who truly confess their sins and entreat His mercy. Sin is _covered_,
for Christ is the _Propitiation_ for His people's sins, and these two
words carry us back to the tabernacle's most holy place, and bring to
view the covering, or lid, of the ark, the mercy-seat, sprinkled with
atoning blood and bright with the divine glory. Jesus has died, and His
blood cleanseth from all sin. To Him David looked, and was saved, and
faith now looks back to His perfect Sacrifice, and rejoices in Him
alone.

Then iniquity is not imputed to the pardoned one, for "it is God that
justifieth." "Impute" or "reckon" reminds us of an account book, with
its columns of debt and credit entries. God will not charge His children
with iniquity, for Jesus paid their debts, and Christ's goodness and
merits are reckoned in their favour, and they shall receive all
blessings for His sake.

And then these blessed ones are _made_ as well as "reckoned" righteous.
In their "spirit there is no guile." They, through God's Spirit, become
honest and sincere. Oh, how blessed are these forgiven ones!

Then David, for the sake of contrast, presents another picture--his own
attempts at covering his sin. What clumsy, miserable failures! He tried
to cover one stain by another blot, and then threw the cloak of
falsehood over all. But the weary months passed on, and brought him no
relief from the unspeakable wretchedness that filled his heart and wore
out his body by day and by night, till Nathan, the prophet, was sent by
God to reprove him, and then, with a full heart, David acknowledged all,
and received the free pardon of his Heavenly Father.

Now, David would be useful to others, and warn sinners against the evil
ways they are pursuing (see ver. 10, first clause), and would encourage
all who are seeking the Lord to hope in His mercy, who had been so
merciful to him. God had often been his Hiding-place (ver. 7) when he
fled from Saul into rocks and caves of the earth. His sure defence was
the Lord Himself. He preserved him from death; and now he had afresh
experienced His loving-kindness. And as we read this verse, are we not
reminded of the sweet lines--

  "Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
  Let me hide myself in Thee"?

The Lord Himself is the great Instructor and Leader of His people, and
He guides them with His eye always upon them, watching and protecting
the objects of His care (ver. 8). But David would tenderly exhort all
who heard, and still hear him, to dread sin, and be afraid of all
wayward, self-willed feelings. "Be ye not as the horse, or the mule,
that have no understanding" of their owners' will sometimes, but will,
if possible, get their own way, and need to be steered and restrained.
"I have been like them," David seems to say, "and I was allowed to take
my own course; and oh, how fearfully I went astray! Be warned by my
fall, and learn, with me, to pray, 'Hold Thou me up, and I shall be
safe.'"

"Many sorrows shall be to the wicked, but they that trust in the Lord,"
though they are weak, and foolish, and imperfect, "shall be compassed
about with mercy." Therefore, "be glad in the Lord, ye righteous: and
shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart," for He is good and
faithful, and will preserve you; He is gracious, and will forgive; He is
holy and almighty, and He will cleanse you from all unrighteousness, and
fill and crown you with His glory for ever.

May we be kept by the power and providence of God from falling into sin
and evil, but since we have sinned and come short of His glory--since we
need pardon and cleansing--may we be led to pray, with David, "Wash me,
and I shall be whiter than snow. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and
renew a right spirit within me." Like him, may we know the joys of
divine forgiveness, and then be helped to show forth our Saviour's
praise, not only by our words, but in our lives, by walking in the way
of His commandments, and "cleaving to Him with purpose of heart."

Our next subject will be, John xvii. 22.

                                  Your loving friend,
                                                H. S. L.


DO those things that you judge to be good, although, after you have done
them, you may be disesteemed, being regardless of the praise or blame of
the vulgar.--_Pythagoras._




PRIZE ESSAY.

WHAT KIND OF SERVICE IS MOST ACCEPTABLE TO GOD?


God accepts that service which is prompted entirely out of love to Him
with greater pleasure than any other. If we obey our parents and serve
God only with a view of being praised by men, He does not accept our
service, and we may be compared with the scribes and Pharisees washing
the outside of the platter and of the cup, but leaving the inside
unclean. Jesus says, "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!
for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within
they are full of extortion and excess" (Matt. xxiii. 25). Jesus means by
this that the scribes and Pharisees gave heed to all the outward
ceremonies of religion, and were, to all appearance, good and upright;
but they did not really love God in their hearts. God looks upon the
motive which prompts any little kindness to any one. He does not look so
much at the action. He says, even a cup of cold water, if given for
Jesus' sake, will be remembered and rewarded (Matt. x. 42; Mark ix. 41).
Jesus says that even the widow who put her farthing into the treasury,
gave more than the scribes and Pharisees, who put in large sums of
money. He means by this that the widow put in all she had. She must have
had great love to God to give her last farthing for the use of God's
house, and the Pharisees were really prompted to put in their large sums
of money because of the praise of man. In obeying our parents, and in
whatever we do, we should do it as unto the Lord.

Paul says, "Not with eye-service, as men pleasers; but as the servants
of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart; with good will doing
service as to the Lord, and not to men" (Eph. vi. 6, 7).

"Only a kindly action,
  Done to a child of God;
Not done to cause attraction,
  But as unto Christ the Lord."

When Mary poured the precious box of ointment on Jesus' head, and
anointed His feet, and wiped them with her hair, she did it out of love
to Him, and Jesus accepted her service; and when some were angry at what
they termed the woman's waste of ointment, Jesus reproved them, and
said, "She hath done what she could."

Oh, that we may have our sins forgiven through the blood of Jesus, and
be enabled to serve Him acceptably, so that we may have the joy of
hearing Him say, at the last day, "Come, thou blessed of My Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world"
(Matt. xxv. 34).

  "Search me, O God, is my desire,
    Nor let me from Thy ways depart;
  To love and serve Thee I aspire,
    Enriched with Mary's better part."

                            MABEL ELLEN DENLY
                             (Aged 11 years).

 _197, High Street, Hounslow._

[We have received several good Essays this month, especially those from
E. B. Knocker, Jane Bell, Margaret Creasey, L. Rush, and P. Rackham. We
hope all of them, as well as the very young friend who wrote the above,
will feel encouraged to persevere.]


[The writer of the above Essay receives a copy of THE SOWER for 1887.

The subject for April will be, "Who are they that will Stand Perfect in
the Day of Judgment?" and the prize to be given for the best Essay on
that subject, a copy of "The Life of John Newton." All competitors must
give a guarantee that they are under fifteen years of age, and that the
Essay is their own composition, or the papers will be passed over, as
the Editor cannot undertake to write for this necessary information.
Papers must be sent direct to the Editor, Mr. T. Hull, 117, High Street,
Hastings, by the first of March.]




"LET NO MAN DESPISE THEE."


Does the injunction to Timothy and Titus respectively--"Let no man less
despise thy youth," and "Let no man despise thee"--give any sanction to
self-assertiveness? Let it not be thought so. Am I eccentric for the
sake of eccentricity, or for the sake of attracting notoriety? Am I
tenacious of my own rights, while sublimely indifferent to the rights of
others? Do I try to pass myself off for better, wiser, richer, or nobler
than I am? Then I deserve to be despised. But if, in the vindication of
unpalatable truth, or in the steadfast and unostentatious discharge of
duty, I encounter scorn, be scorn my portion. The sum of the matter
seems to me to be this--While, on the one hand, I must be willing, for
conscience' sake, to endure reproach, opposition, buffeting, and
contempt, I must be equally concerned, on the other, to avoid every
questionable act or thing that, with any show of reason, may cause me to
be despised, and may thus materially mar my influence for good.

Herein does the poet of the "Night Thoughts" hit the mark--"Revere
thyself, and yet thyself despise." Let self be "of no reputation," but,
at the same time, do thou faithfully and prayerfully pursue intrinsic
worth, and let not "a good name" be of no account in thy regard.

                                        THOMSON SHARP.


EGOTISM and self-assertion are unamiable traits.




Interesting Items.


A CORRESPONDENT of the _Echo_ calls attention to the fact that, at Dr.
Lee's church, in the New Cut, on Sunday night, January 1st, the _Te
Deum_ was sung in thanksgiving for the Papal Jubilee, and wishes to know
what is to prevent it. "Nothing," replies the editor.


ACCORDING to the _Charity Record_, the amount of money bequeathed in
great sums for charitable purposes during the year just closed was more
than L700,000; and if bequests under L1,000 be added, the total would at
least reach L1,000,000. This is exclusive of the money given to several
religious and book-publishing societies.


A THIEVING ELEPHANT.--The contents of a clothes-chest, belonging to one
of the people recently employed in the carnival in the Waverley Market,
Edinburgh, disappeared in a rather amusing fashion. The chest had been
lying near the performing elephants, and in the morning it was observed
that one of these animals was particularly lively, and apparently in the
very highest spirits. Later on, the owner of the chest discovered that
the whole of the contents had been abstracted. Subsequent examination
satisfied the searchers that one of the animals was responsible for the
disappearance of the wardrobe, and as none of the articles could be
discovered hidden away in its vicinity, the only conclusion that could
be come to was, that the mischievous animal had swallowed the whole
lot--boots, brushes, trousers, shirts, and several other articles of
wearing apparel.


THE BAKU NAPHTHA SPRINGS.--Although within the last two years
intelligence has frequently reached Europe of extraordinary outbursts of
mineral oil on the Apsheron peninsula, near Baku, nothing has yet
equalled the astonishing outbreak which the Northern Telegraph Agency
telegraphed a few days ago. Their telegram was to the effect that, near
the petroleum works of a certain M. Arafeloff, a fountain of oil was
throwing out over 2,400 tons daily, that this had been continuing
without intermission for four weeks, and that more than the half of this
enormous output was going to waste. It is to this loss of the oil that
attention is now being directed. Not only at Arafeloff's fountain, but
at almost every large fountain in the Balakhan-Sabuntchin district, the
waste of this most valuable product has been enormous. Millions of poods
of oil have been lost owing to the inefficient way in which it is
reservoired and stored. It is now understood that the Government will
take immediate steps to prevent this ruinous waste, and to compel the
owners of oil-springs to adopt more scientific methods of boring,
collecting, and storing.


AN IRISH CABIN PAVED WITH GOLD.--The _Irish Ecclesiastical Gazette_ of
December 31st contains the following:--"A few weeks ago, the writer was
in a bank office in a country town in the south of Ireland, when a very
common-looking, roughly-dressed man passed out after a conference with
the manager. The latter said, 'Did you see that man? Well, some time
ago, there was a run on the Bank of Ireland here, and he withdrew
(receiving it in gold) L700 which he had there on deposit. That sum he
informs me he still has at home, "under the kitchen flure." He has also
more than L400 on deposit here with us.' Is it not hard to know 'what is
truth' in Ireland? Here you have the floor of an Irish cabin literally
paved with gold at a time when the payment of rent is impossible. It may
be said that this is an exceptional case, but we believe such cases are
not at all so rare as some suppose."


THE Roman correspondent of _Le Paris_ of January 5th states that, at
Florence, Mr. Gladstone was heard to express a desire to see Leo XIII.
This being repeated at the Vatican, the Pope sent word to Mr. Gladstone
that nothing would delight him more than to have a visit from him. It is
therefore arranged, says the correspondent of the _Paris_, that he is to
go to Rome, and when he calls at the Vatican, is to be received
according to the ceremonial adopted there when non-Catholic visitors are
admitted to audiences. The correspondent thinks that anxiety about the
Irish question moved Mr. Gladstone to manifest the desire above
mentioned, and that the Pope's celerity in reciprocating it sprung from
the same cause. The Pope has been urged to stand out against the Land
League; but, feeling what a momentous thing it would be to do this, he
is, we are told, delighted to talk over the matter with Mr. Gladstone.
Thus we see Salisbury and Co. and Gladstone and Co. are in perfect
agreement as to giving their power to the Pope. It is only a keen
competition between them as to which shall be first, and do it most
effectually. Since Salisbury and Co. have encouraged the Queen to
despise her coronation oath, we need no longer wonder that they are so
quiet about Mr. Bradlaugh. Perhaps Lord R. Churchill's expressions on
the subject were anticipatory of the whole matter. We find that neither
party is worthy of being entrusted with our Protestant interests.


NINE hundred thousand dog licenses were issued for the past year. The
duty amounted to L340,000.


CHRISTMAS AT THE LONDON POST OFFICE.--From statistics it would seem that
never before have the Post Office officials had their energies so
severely taxed as on Christmas Eve last, during which day no fewer than
15,000,000 letters and newspapers were forwarded to their destination.
In all some 3,000 supernumerary men were engaged, these being in
addition to the regular staff. At Coldbath Fields, where the Parcel Post
is now conducted, some 65,000 inland and 5,000 foreign parcels were
disposed of during the day, for the conveyance of which to the various
railway termini more than 800 vans were brought into requisition.


AN ATLANTIC WAVE.--An immense wave recently fell upon the steamship
_Umbria_ with a deafening roar when a thousand miles from Queenstown,
bringing the ship to a standstill, and causing much damage to the decks.
Stout brass rods, an inch in diameter, that formed the railing about the
bridge, were twisted and bent like straws. An eye-witness, who has made
thirteen ocean voyages, thus describes the occurrence:--"The look-out
saw the wave coming, and the course of the vessel was altered so that
she met it obliquely, while the speed of the engines was slackened. As I
saw the huge wave, it looked like a black mass of water with white waves
on the top, and it rolled higher and higher as it neared the vessel.
When it struck her she shivered from stem to stern, and the combing of
the wave fell with the weight of tons on the deck. The wood cover of the
forward hatch was splintered in pieces, while the water poured in
torrents into the hold, but the bulkheads were closed. The bridge was
broken, and the iron stanchions were twisted with enormous force, while
the turtle-back was flattened by the tremendous weight of the water.
There was also a panic among the passengers, most of whom were sleeping
in their berths. When the force of the wave was felt, they thought the
ship was going to the bottom, and many in their night-clothes rushed
into the main dining-room. Of course the danger was past, as the wave
rolled by, and the excitement subsided."


ZION SUNDAY SCHOOL, HERDEN BRIDGE, YORKSHIRE.--The friends, teachers,
and scholars connected with the above place celebrated their annual
Christmas tea festival on Christmas Eve, December 24th, 1887. The
school-room was very tastefully decorated with evergreens and mottoes in
touch with the season; also the tables, so richly laden with all sorts
of nice and dainty things, had not escaped the eye of the decorators,
for at intervals luxuriant exotics were placed, thereby contributing a
very pleasing appearance. The children's features were lightened up with
the thought of their happy treat; also the older people seemed to wear
pleasant countenances, and apparently enjoyed the time, notwithstanding
their thoughts were in a much loftier strain. The tea was served by the
young ladies of the place to about one hundred and forty. After tea, a
public meeting was held in the chapel, presided over by Mr. John Smith,
of Halifax. The meeting was opened by singing a Christmas hymn, after
which Mr. T. Barritt, senior deacon, offered prayer. Mr. E. Hargreaves
presented the prizes to the scholars for good attendance. Addresses were
also delivered by Messrs. T. Smith, Jos. Smith, and T. Barritt. Hymns
were sung. The report was read by the Secretary, which showed an
increase of eight during the year, the present number on the books being
eighty-two. Recitations were given by the scholars, and a very good
meeting was brought to a close a little after nine o'clock.


ALBERT STREET CHAPEL SUNDAY SCHOOL, OXFORD.--The prizes were distributed
to the scholars on Tuesday, December 27th, 1887. The meeting was opened
by singing, "I thank the goodness and the grace"; this was followed by
prayer. Owing to the indisposition of Mr. Newton, the friends, teachers,
and scholars were greatly disappointed in not having the usual address
they look forward to every year from the Superintendent. There were
twenty-eight boys and girls who said pieces, and they, one and all,
deserve great commendation for the capital way in which they recited.
One girl, aged twelve, rehearsed the story of "Giving Away a Child," in
prose, from Volume IX. of the LITTLE GLEANER. Another scholar, aged
twelve, repeated in a very perfect manner a lengthy piece containing
seventy-nine verses, entitled "The Little Pilgrim." This too was taken
from an early volume of the LITTLE GLEANER. A boy, aged eleven,
rehearsed very nicely a difficult piece called "The Two Brothers, and
what Echo said to them," and he imitated the echo capitally. Then
followed, perhaps, the greatest attraction of the evening, namely, the
distribution of the prizes. The first prize in the boys' class was
awarded to William Tombs, and in the girls' class to Elizabeth Leech. As
usual, a prize was given for the best essay--the subject, "The History
of Joseph." This prize was awarded to a boy, who received a nicely-bound
book, entitled "Pebbles from the Brook." The meeting was closed with
prayer.

                                             M. S. P.

[Illustration: CARING FOR THE LITTLE ONES]




CARING FOR THE LITTLE ONES.


The faithful guardians of our cities have many and varied duties to
perform, but perhaps in none of them does the kindness of their hearts
shine forth as it does in their tenderness to little ones who have lost
themselves in the winding streets of a great city. In wet or wintry
weather they treat them tenderly, and take them home, or to the warm
fire at the nearest station, till their parents claim them. This
incident may well call to mind the kindness of Jesus to the little ones
when on earth, as we read--"And they brought young children to Him, that
He should touch them: and His disciples rebuked those that brought them.
But when Jesus saw it, He was much displeased, and said unto them,
Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of
such is the kingdom of God. And He took them up in His arms, put His
hands upon them, and blessed them" (Mark x. 13, 14, 16).

  The mothers came, in days of old,
  To Jesus, that He might enfold
  Within His arms their children dear,
  And then His kindness did appear.

  Disciples thought it waste of time;
  Rebuked, as though it was a crime;
  But it was ne'er the Saviour's way
  To turn poor coming ones away.

  Therefore the Lord was much displeased,
  And thus the happy moment seized;
  Them in His arms did take and bear,
  Showing His love and kindly care.

  His loving voice could never say--
  "Oh, take these little ones away!"
  And though the parents' hearts might fear,
  He loved to see them coming near.

  His blessed words, "Forbid them not,"
  Are with much heavenly comfort fraught;
  And "Suffer them to come to Me,"
  Gives forth a welcome kind and free.

  In Him sweet rays of mercy shine--
  So tender, harmless, yet divine;
  Upon them He His hands doth place,
  And blesses them in truth and grace.

  Displeased with what His servants did,
  And having their unkindness chid,
  He makes His pleasure shine so bright,
  Causing the mothers much delight.

  Oh, tell it out, to heal the smart
  Of many an anxious parent's heart--
  He hears the sigh, He sees the tear,
  And each poor pleader welcomes near.

  Oh, tell it out, that children dear
  May seek His face, and never fear,
  That He will hear their feeble prayer,
  And give them in His love to share.

  He speaks of heaven and glorious things,
  And is so meek, though King of kings;
  Of children says, to cheer and please,
  "The kingdom is of such as these."

  Oh, eyes that saw with kindly look!
  Oh, arms that thus the children took!
  Oh, hands, parental-like, thus laid!
  Oh, words to bless, what grace displayed!

  Lord, fix our youthful eyes on Thee;
  Grant us Thy love and grace to see;
  Cause us to love Thy blessed name,
  And tune our tongues to speak Thy fame.

  The proud, the lofty, all defiled,
  Must be made as a little child;
  Must all their sins and vileness own,
  And seek for mercy at Thy throne.[1]

    [1] Throne of grace.

  Oh, Saviour, may Thy love so free
  Encourage souls to come to Thee;
  And may they, finding all they need,
  Confess that they are blest indeed.

                                             B. B.


THE biggest lies are told for the least cause.




A BUDDING OF HOPE.


Dear young readers of the LITTLE GLEANER, how very true and solemn are
the words of the poet--

"The moment when our lives begin
  We all begin to die."

And at what age death may take us none of us can say. From among the
large number who read the GLEANER, we every now and again hear of one
being taken away by death.

Lizzie Winchester, of Cross-in-Hand, was a constant reader of the
GLEANER, and of other good books, but not to the neglecting of her
Bible. She was a scholar in the Sunday School at Ebenezer Chapel,
Heathfield, where she was always very quiet and attentive, and she was
also very fond of her teacher. When she left school, she regularly
attended chapel with her sisters, sitting where she could see the school
children, and would complain when she got home if she saw any that did
not behave themselves properly. She had a great reverence for the house
of God and for the servants of God. She had but few companions, but was
much beloved for her little acts of kindness in sending to one and
another small presents. Some little time before her death she sent "The
Sack and its Treasure" to a young friend at Eastbourne, as a birthday
present; and who can say how much real good may result from such little
gifts as that? I should not think that any one could point out a flaw in
her moral character. But this was not grace; and although she needed no
outward reformation, yet if the heart be not changed, there can be no
entering into the kingdom of God.

The last time that she walked to chapel, a distance of three
miles--making six miles both ways--was on August 21st. It was not then
known that anything was the matter with her. First her throat was sore,
and she felt poorly, but she still kept about. On Wednesday, September
14th, she was out, and gathered half a gallon of blackberries. She was
up on Thursday and Friday, and put her clothes on on Saturday, but could
not get down stairs. Towards night she was much worse, and it was found
that her affliction was diabetes.

On Sunday she was very ill, and the doctor said she could not last long.
Her Sunday School teacher, Miss C----, was sent for, and when she
arrived, she saw that Lizzie was sinking fast, and found that she could
say but little.

I am not going to set her up, and positively say she was a partaker of
grace, for the very few words she uttered are not of themselves
sufficient evidence for that. About five o'clock, during her mother's
absence, she said, in a very low tone of voice, "I hope Jesus will heal
my soul," or, "Perhaps Jesus will heal my soul." Miss C---- could not
distinguish the words so as to be sure which.

Early on Monday morning, the 19th of September, 1887, she died. Had she
lived till the 26th, she would have been eighteen years of age. Just as
she departed there was a beautiful smile came over her countenance; and
as Miss C---- afterwards went with several friends to see the corpse,
these words came into her mind as if some one had spoken them to her--

  "Not a wave of trouble rolls
    Across her peaceful breast."

Mr. Mockford buried her on the following Saturday; and, among other
things, he spoke from these words--"If the tree fall toward the south,
or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth there it shall
be." He spoke of the departed as being toward the south--toward the
house of God, the people of God, and the ways and Word of God; and as
she was so far joined to the living, there was hope that she would be
found among that people at the resurrection morning.

On Sunday morning in the school, one of the teachers read that chapter
where the same words stand, and, though not at the funeral, some very
similar remarks were made, and the same hope concerning the departed was
expressed. I am sure of this--that, if she had that good thing in her
heart toward the Lord God of Israel, namely, faith toward Jesus and His
blood, she is now joining

  "The host of virgin saints
    Made to salvation wise."

The question may arise, "Why say anything about her, since there is no
more ground for hope than this?"

It is to the living I want to say a few words, hoping the Lord will make
use of this feeble account to lead the young readers of the LITTLE
GLEANER to consider how matters stand with them before God and for
eternity.

  "Reflect, young friend, I humbly crave,
    Thy sins, how high they mount!
  What are thy hopes beyond the grave?
    How stands that dark account?"

Oh, how solemn your case, if you are in an unpardoned state! Death may
come upon you speedily, and then what will you do? All who die without
repentance and forgiveness must hear that solemn word from the lips of
Christ, "Depart from Me!" Are you blessed with a good hope, through
grace? Then you certainly have something to be thankful to God for. Or
are you in some doubt as to whether you have a living hope in Christ?
And do you fear that, if called to die, you could say no more than
Lizzie Winchester did? Then my prayer for such an one is, that the Lord
may stir you up to real, earnest, wrestling prayer and importunity
respecting your salvation.

  "If hellish foes beset thee round,
    And would thy way withstand,
  On Jesus call, nor yield thy ground,
    And He will help command."

It is no small mercy, reader, if your moral character will compare with
Lizzie Winchester's. She was a model in this respect, and I hope you may
be found in every way as consistent as she was, and, above all, may you
be found in Christ Jesus, living and dying.

I had thought of saying more, but, as I wish to be brief, I will
conclude by telling you that, notwithstanding her reservedness, several
friends, with myself, had a good hope of Lizzie. We do trust she is now

                "completely blest;
  Has done with sin, and care, and woe,
    And entered Jesus' rest."

                                                      W. L.

[We hope our readers will bear in mind the motive our friend has in
writing, and we in giving, this brief account of Lizzie Winchester; and
may the Holy Spirit cause the reading of it to make them feel the
importance of the new birth, and stir them up to seek clear and certain
evidences of their salvation, so that, when they come to die, they may
be able to confess, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that
He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him."--ED.]




BIBLE SUBJECTS FOR EACH SUNDAY IN MARCH.


Mar.  4. Commit to memory Heb. xi. 23.
Mar. 11. Commit to memory Heb. xi. 24.
Mar. 18. Commit to memory Heb. xi. 25.
Mar. 25. Commit to memory Heb. xi. 26.


THE first character of right childhood is, that it is modest.




"THERE IS NO REST IN HELL!"

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.


Dear Reader,--The following account being "an authenticated fact," it is
put before you with the hope that you may be thereby led to solemnly
consider the subject of a future state. God's truth does not require
fiction to make it effectual; therefore, the net of truth should only be
weighted with words of truth.

The awful, but true, narrative now put before you takes us back for
something like a century, to the city of Glasgow, where, at that time,
was a club of gentlemen of the first rank in that city. They met
professedly for card-playing; but the members were distinguished by such
a fearless excess of profligacy as to obtain for it the name of "The
Hell Club."

Besides their nightly or weekly meetings, they held a grand annual
festival, at which each member endeavoured to "outdo all his former
outdoings" in drunkenness, blasphemy, and licentiousness. Of all who
shone on these occasions, none shone half so brilliantly as Archibald
Boyle. Educated by a fond and foolishly indulgent mother, he was early
allowed to meet in society with members of "The Hell Club."

One night, on retiring to sleep, after returning from one of the annual
meetings of the club, Boyle dreamt that he was still riding, as usual,
upon his famous black horse, towards his own house--then a country seat
embowered by ancient trees, and situated upon a hill now built over by
the most fashionable part of Glasgow--and that he was suddenly accosted
by some one, whose personal appearance he could not, in the gloom of
night, distinctly discern, but who, seizing the reins, said, in a voice
apparently accustomed to command, "You must go with me." "And who are
you?" exclaimed Boyle, with a volley of blasphemous execrations, while
he struggled to disengage his reins from the intruder's grasp. "That you
will see by-and-bye," replied the same voice, in a cold, sneering tone,
that thrilled through his very heart. Boyle plunged his spurs into the
panting sides of his steed. The noble animal reared, and then darted
forward with a speed which nearly deprived his rider of breath. But in
vain--in vain! Fleeter than the wind he flew, the mysterious, half-seen
guide still in front of him! Agonized by he knew not what of
indescribable horror and awe, Boyle again furiously spurred the gallant
horse. It fiercely reared and plunged. He lost his seat, and expected at
the moment to feel himself dashed to the earth. But not so, for he
continued to fall--fall--fall--it appeared to himself with an
ever-increasing velocity. At length this terrific rapidity of motion
abated, and, to his amazement and horror, he perceived that this
mysterious attendant was close by his side. "Where," he exclaimed, in
the frantic energy of despair, "where are you taking me? Where am I?
Where am I going?" "To hell!" replied the same iron voice, and from the
depths below the sound so familiar to his lips was suddenly
re-echoed--"To hell!"

Onward, onward they hurried in darkness, rendered more horrible still by
the conscious presence of his spectral conductor. At length a glimmering
light appeared in the distance, and soon increased to a blaze. But, as
they approached it, in addition to the hideously discordant groans and
yells of agony and despair, his ears were assailed with what seemed to
be the echoes of frantic revelry.

Boyle at length perceived that he was surrounded by those whom he had
known on earth, but were some time dead, each one of them betraying his
agony at the bitter recollections of the vain pursuits that had
engrossed his time here.

Suddenly observing that his unearthly conductor had disappeared, he felt
so relieved by his absence that he ventured to address his former
friend, Mrs. D----, whom he saw sitting with eyes fixed in intense
earnestness, as she was wont on earth, apparently absorbed at her
favourite game of loo. "Ha! Mrs. D----! Delighted to see you! D'ye know
a fellow told me to-night he was bringing me to hell! Ha! ha! If this be
hell," said he, scoffingly, "what a ---- pleasant place it must be! Ha!
ha! Come now, my good Mrs. D----, for auld lang syne, do just stop for a
moment, rest, and"--"show me through the pleasures of hell," he was
going, with reckless profanity, to add; but, with a shriek that seemed
to cleave through his very soul, she exclaimed, "_Rest!_ There is no
rest in hell!" and from the interminable vaults, voices, as loud as
thunder, repeated the awful, the heart-withering sound, "_There is no
rest in hell!_" and he who, in his vision, walked among them in a mortal
frame of flesh and blood, felt how inexpressibly more horrible such
sounds could be than ever was the wildest shriek of agony on earth.

He saw Maxwell, the former companion of his own boyish profligacy, and
said, "Stop, Harry! stop! Speak to me! Oh, rest one moment!" Scarce had
the words been breathed from his faltering lips, when again his
terror-stricken ear was stunned with the same wild yell of agony,
re-echoed by ten thousand thousand voices--"_There is no rest in hell!_"

All at once he perceived that his unearthly conductor was once more by
his side. "Take me," shrieked Boyle, "take me from this place! By the
living God, whose name I have so often outraged, I adjure thee! Take me
from this place!"

"Canst thou still name His name?" said the fiend, with a hideous sneer.
"Go, then; but, in a year and a day, _we_ meet, to part no more!"

Boyle awoke; and he felt as if the last words of the fiend were traced
in letters of living fire upon his heart and brain. Unable, from actual
bodily ailment, to leave his bed for several days, the horrid vision had
full time to take effect upon his mind; and many were the pangs of tardy
remorse and ill-defined terror that beset his vice-stained soul, as he
lay in darkness and seclusion--to him so very unusual. He resolved,
utterly and for ever, to forsake "The Hell Club." Above all, he
determined that nothing on earth should tempt him to join the next
annual festival.

The companions of his licentiousness bound themselves by an oath never
to desist till they had discovered what was the matter with him, and had
cured him of _playing the Methodist;_ for their alarm as to losing "the
life of the Club" had been wrought up to the highest pitch by one of
their number declaring that, on unexpectedly entering Boyle's room, he
detected him in the act of hastily hiding a Book, which he actually
believed was the Bible.

Alas! alas! poor Boyle! Like many a youth, he was ashamed to avow his
convictions, and his endless ruin followed.

From the annual meeting he shrank with an instinctive horror, and made
up his mind _utterly to avoid it_. Well aware of this resolve, his
tempters determined he should have no choice. How potent, how active, is
the spirit of evil! How feeble is _unassisted_, _Christless_,
_unprayerful_ man! Boyle found himself, he could not tell how, seated at
that table on that very day, where he had sworn to himself a thousand
and a thousand times nothing on earth should make him sit.

His ears tingled, and his eyes swam, as he listened to the opening
sentence of the president's address--"Gentlemen, this is leap year;
therefore, it is _a year and a day_ since our last annual meeting."

Every nerve in Boyle's body twanged in agony at the ominous, the
well-remembered words. His first impulse was to rise and fly; but
then--the sneers! the sneers!

How many in this world, as well as poor Boyle, have dreaded a sneer, and
dared the wrath of an almighty and eternal God, rather than encounter
the sarcastic curl of a fellow-creature's lip!

The night was gloomy, with frequent and fitful gusts of chill and
howling wind, as Boyle, with fevered nerves and a reeling brain, mounted
his horse to return home.

The following morning, the well-known black steed was found, with saddle
and bridle on, quietly grazing on the road-side, about half-way to
Boyle's country-house, and a few yards from it lay the stiffened corpse
of its master.

Reader, the dream is horrible--truly horrible--yet not half so horrible
as the reality. Ah! no. No dream can picture the full, long misery of
"the worm that dieth not," "the fire that is never quenched," the woe
that never ends.

Oh, reader, if, under the poison of infidelity, you have been led to
doubt the existence of hell, I pray God you may believe the awful
reality ere you are in it!

If God did not punish sin, His indifference to it would encourage it. If
God did not punish sin, where were His holy abhorrence of it? If God did
not punish sin, His kingdom would be a moral chaos. But His Word
declares that "we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,
that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to
that he hath done, whether it be good or bad" (2 Cor. v. 10).

Reader, as in the days of Noah, so now. Death threatens all who are out
of Christ, and, therefore, in their sins. There was then only one place
of safety; there is only one place of safety now--that is, in the Ark,
Christ. "YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN." The horror you have felt in reading
this dream will be no benefit to you if it is not made, in the hands of
the Spirit, the means of your flying to Christ for refuge.

Oh, that in some hearts, the reading of this sad narrative may prove the
means of producing the earnest cry, "Deliver me from going down to the
pit!" and "What must I do to be saved?" To such God's free invitation to
the heavy-laden sinner to come to Christ for rest is given, and Jesus
Himself declares, "Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out"
(John vi. 37).




THE SCOTCH THISTLE.


Why the Scots chose the thistle for a national insignia is told in this
legend. It was at the time of an invasion, when the destinies of
Scotland hung upon the result of a battle soon to come. The invaders
knew that the Scots were desperate, and availed themselves of a dark,
stormy night, and planned to fall upon the Scottish army on every side
at the same moment. Had they been suffered to execute their plan
undetected, they would certainly have succeeded in destroying the Scots;
but a simple accident betrayed them. When near the Scottish camp, the
foremost of the invaders removed the heavy shoes from their feet, so
that their steps might not be heard, and thus stealthily advancing
barefooted, a heavy, quick-tempered soldier trod squarely upon a huge
thistle, the sharp point of which gave such sudden and exquisite pain
that he cried out with a bitter curse. His cry aroused the outlying
Scots, and apprized them of their danger, and meeting the foe widely
divided for the purpose of encompassing the camp, they were enabled
easily to overcome them with great slaughter. When the Scots discovered
that it was to a thistle that they owed their victory, they adopted the
prickly plant as their national emblem.




COUSIN SUSAN'S NOTE-BOOK JOTTINGS ON THE LIFE AND WORK OF FATHER
CHINIQUY.

"BELOVED, BELIEVE NOT EVERY SPIRIT."


We have often wondered why any one should believe that a bit of
consecrated bread was the true body and soul of the Lord Jesus, and
that, as such, it should be reverenced and adored. But our surprise
abates, though our sorrow increases, when we trace the steps by which a
Roman Catholic reaches that point of folly and superstition, as the
interesting narrative of Father Chiniquy brings them to our view.

When he was eleven or twelve years old, he met with a class of lads
about the same age, to be prepared for his first communion; and there he
was taught that, just as his mother punished him more seldom and less
severely than his father for his faults, and just as his mother often
interceded for him and saved him from punishment altogether, so Mary was
more pitiful, more tender, than Jesus, and when He was righteously
angry, His mother--the mother of all who pray to her--turned away His
anger, and averted the strokes He was about to inflict on the sinner.

The thought of _this_ Christ--terrible, angry, unapproachable--was dark
and chilling in the extreme. He seemed a Being to be feared, but not
beloved.

And then the false Church presented another Christ to view--a god made
with hands, not of wood or stone, but of wheaten flour. The priest's
servant girl or attendant takes the dough, bakes it between two heated
irons, on which are graven the letters, I. H. S., and the figure of a
cross. These wafers, about four or five inches large, when well baked,
are cut with a pair of scissors into smaller ones, about one inch in
size, and then the priest, taking them to the altar, and pronouncing
Latin words for "This is My body," is supposed to turn each of these
into the Christ who lived and loved and suffered here, a gentle, tender,
loving Saviour; and the poor deluded creatures who tremble before Christ
in heaven, bow down and adore, when they do not eat, the paltry wafer
which the priest has blessed.

Chiniquy himself passed whole hours, in biting wintry weather, in a
church never warmed by a fire, worshipping this wafer god. He was
yearning for divine sympathy and love, and hoped he had it then.

And yet, though he tried to "believe a lie" so earnestly, his faith was
often shaken by what he saw and heard.

In a company of priests, a strange story was told of a drunken curate
and his deacon, who, called to go a long journey in snowy weather, to
carry the sacred wafer to a sick person, had a dispute with a traveller
as to which should lead his horses into the deep snow, the cleared path
being too narrow for the vehicles to pass each other. A terrible fight
took place. The priest's horses took fright and returned home, breaking
the sleigh all to pieces, and the little silk bag containing their "god"
was lost in the snow. It was carefully sought in vain, and not till the
month of June was it found, and then the wafer inside the little silver
box had melted away! And the priests laughed boisterously when they
heard it. Did they believe what they taught the people?

At another time, a blind priest had been adoring the bit of bread he had
just consecrated, but when he went to eat it, it was gone. In alarm, he
sent for Chiniquy, who was hearing confessions not far away, and as it
could nowhere be found, he knew that a rat had taken it, for the rats
were both numerous and bold in that place. The old priest was
inconsolable, though he blessed another piece and then concluded his
devotions. But his lamentations were so deep and long that Chiniquy at
last lost patience, and said a word or two which greatly shocked the
superstitious priest, who severely rebuked him, and ordered him for a
penance to kneel every day before the fourteen images representing "the
way of the cross," and say a penitential psalm before each for nine
days, and on no account to tell the story of the rat to any one. He
complied with these requests, and received a very gracious absolution.
But on the sixth day he pierced the skin of his knees while kneeling,
and the blood flowed freely, causing him great pain whenever he knelt or
walked, and all because he for a moment had doubted the right of Rome to
call that a god which a priest could professedly create and a rat
destroy!

Alas! for those who follow such pernicious teachings! Let us pity and
pray for them, and more than ever cleave to that Gospel which tells us
that "there is only one name given under heaven by which we must be
saved"--"one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus," who
lives in glory, no more to suffer or die, but who is "Jesus of Nazareth"
(Acts xxii. 8), still tender and loving as when He dwelt below, while He
is eternally mighty to "save to the uttermost all that come unto God by
Him."

Oh, that all our hope and confidence may rest on Him--entirely on Him
alone!




  THE DIRGE OF AN ENGLISHWOMAN.

  And ought the Queen of England's land
  A gift to send by Norfolk's hand
    To the old Pope of Rome,
  His Jubilee to celebrate,
  With Popish pomp, in grandest state,
    In his Italian home?

  Chalice and basin, richly made
  Of shining gold; to him conveyed
    By one of his trained band.
  He used them both at his High Mass,
  And proud of such a gift he was
    From our dear native land.

  Our own Victoria should be free,
  True to "the rights" she swore when she
    Sat in the abbey old;
  And crown was placed upon her head,
  And coronation oath she said
    Over God's Word, we're told.

  Up, English men and women all!
  To the red beast[2] ne'er bow at all,
    But leave him to his fate;
  For Babylon will surely fall,[3]
  And with her, nations great and small,
    Who follow in her wake.

  In days of yore she sat a queen,[4]
  On seven hills,[5] so vile, unclean,
    And shed the blood of saints.
  "Come out of her, My people"[6] all,
  Nor of her plagues receive at all,
    Or listen to her plaints.

  The Ritualists are helping fast
  To bring us now, as in times past,
    Beneath the sway of Rome.
  You silly men and (silly) women[7] all,
  Oh, why take heed to them at all
    Who creep into the home?[7]

  Alas! alas! for England's Queen,
  And English nation too, I ween,
    If e'er the Pope gets sway!
  True Christians ne'er will bend the knee
  To kiss Pope's toe so impiously,
    Nor pence to Peter pay.

                                N. P. W.

_Southsea._


NOTHING doth more hurt in a State than that cunning men pass for wise.


  [2] Revelation xvii. 3.

  [3] Revelation xiv. 8.

  [4] Revelation xviii. 7.

  [5] Revelation xvii. 9.

  [6] Revelation xviii. 4.

  [7] 2 Timothy iii. 6.





EXPERIENCES IN THE ARCTIC OCEAN.


Captain Adams, of the whaling steamer _Maud_, which lately arrived at
Dundee from Davis Straits, has related a few interesting incidents of
his voyage.

When in Exeter Sound, Captain Adams was informed, by a native, of an
island which was a favourite resort of the walrus, and where the animals
could be often found asleep. He accordingly determined to try and secure
an old specimen, and sent out four boats, with twenty-four men, to
effect a capture. On arriving at the island, a large number of walrus
were seen basking on the shore, and a landing was attempted, with the
result that the colony soon showed their tusks, and made a deliberate
attack on the boats. Ten of the foremost animals had to be shot to
prevent mischief, and after a severe struggle a female walrus was
lassoed. A number of small ropes were then fastened about it, and the
huge animal was, after immense labour, hoisted into an empty boat, to
which it had to be secured, to prevent it smashing the planks. On being
towed to the ship, the boat and the walrus were hoisted on board, and
suitable quarters were then found for it. It is fully eighteen months
old, and Captain Adams is hopeful that it will survive. A young live
bear has also been brought home.

One of the noteworthy incidents of the voyage was the landing of Urio
Etawango (the Esquimaux whom Captain Adams had staying in Dundee over
last winter) at Durban, the residence of his tribe. For several days
previous to the arrival of the _Maud_ off Durban, Urio was moody and
disconsolate, but he did not reveal his mind, so that the crew were
ignorant of his thoughts. The conjecture was, that he was sorry to
return to the rude life of an Inuit, after his experience of civilized
life. When the ship first arrived off Durban, there was a long stretch
of ice running out from the land, and Urio and one of the officers
travelled about fifteen miles, and lighted a fire as a signal to the
tribe of his return. The signal was soon recognized, and ere long the
whole tribe were seen making their way over the ice. Meantime Urio had
returned to the ship, and he was taking a nap in his berth when the news
was communicated to him of the arrival of the tribe, with his wife and
child amongst them. The Inuits are a very impassive race, and it was
amusing to see the cool way in which Urio and his wife shook hands, as
though they had been parted twelve days instead of twelve months. Urio
showed more affection towards his child, with whom he rubbed cheeks in
the manner peculiar to the Inuits. But if the young wife was
undemonstrative at meeting with her husband, she got into transports of
joy at the sight of the numerous presents which friends of her husband
in Dundee had sent out to her. One of these was a pretty melodion, and
the young woman's eyes sparkled when she beheld it. To the astonishment
of the ship's company, she lifted the instrument and played "There is
nae luck aboot the hoose," finishing with "The Keel Row." It was
subsequently ascertained that she had learned to play several tunes on
the concertina whilst resident at the American settlements on Cumberland
Gulf. When the other presents were laid out, the delight of Urio and his
wife and friends was unbounded. Several of the gaudy petticoats were
seized, and the women put them on above their sealskin dresses, being so
fond of display that the most showy articles are always worn outermost.
Owing to the distance of the ship from the shore, only a few of the
lighter presents were removed at that time, but a month later the ship
got near the land, when the remainder of the articles were put ashore
and taken possession of by Urio.

Captain Adams gives the Esquimaux chief the character of an honest,
hard-working, warm-hearted fellow. He proved a good sailor, was beloved
by all the crew, and he was a dead shot while seal-hunting. It is
evident that his experience of civilized life has given him a distaste
for his former mode of life, for he pleaded with Captain Adams to
promise to take himself and his wife and child to Scotland next year.

Captain Adams is of opinion that the whaling at Davis Straits and
Greenland is virtually exhausted. He saw only seventeen whales
throughout the season.




SINGULAR CAUSE OF DEATH.


On Friday, January 13th, Mr. Wynne E. Baxter held an inquiry at the
London Hospital, Whitechapel, respecting the death of Moses Raphael,
aged thirty-two years, a commercial traveller, lately residing at
Bromley-by-Bow, who died on the previous day in the above hospital.
About six weeks previously he complained of pains in his head and also
of shivers, and eventually it was decided to remove him to the hospital.
Until the last few weeks the deceased had been in apparently good
health. He was a wonderful brain-worker, and had kept a set of books
most accurately.

Henry Muir Doyle, house-surgeon, stated that the deceased, on his
admission, appeared drowsy, and complained of a pain in his head. He
continued in that state till the 10th, but at times appeared quite
clear-headed and rational. On the 10th, symptoms of apoplexy appeared,
and deceased expired at twelve o'clock the same night. Witness said
that, since death, he had made a most searching examination of the head
and brain. On opening the former, he discovered an abscess in the brain.
It was about the size of a turkey's egg, and had evidently been there
some time. On removing the abscess, a penholder and nib were found
protruding from the top of the right orbital plate. This had produced
the abscess, and the abscess had caused death. The holder and nib must
have entered the brain by way of the right eye, or through the right
part of the nose. It was probable that they had been in there for a
considerable time, as the bone had grown over them, and it was with
difficulty they were separated. He had examined the eye, but had failed
to detect any injury. It was, however, quite possible for such a thing
to enter beneath the lid of the open eye, and the wound to heal up,
showing no signs of the entry.

The widow of the deceased man was called in, and said that her husband
never mentioned to her anything about being hurt by a pen.

The coroner said that the case was the most extraordinary that had ever
come before him.--_Times._




ANSWER TO BIBLE ENIGMA.

(_Page 41._)


"_The Prince of Peace._"--ISAIAH ix. 6.

T ychicus           Colossians iv. 7.
H en                Zechariah vi. 14.
E rastus            Romans xvi. 23.

P arvaim            2 Chronicles iii. 6.
R immon             Joshua xv. 32.
I rijah             Jeremiah xxxvii. 14.
N ahum              Nahum i. 7.
C arpus             2 Timothy iv. 13.
E lymas             Acts xiii. 11.

O uches             Exodus xxviii. 11.
F aith              Hebrews xi. 6.

P erez-uzzah        2 Samuel vi. 8.
E lisheba           Exodus vi. 23.
A bba               Romans viii. 15.
C orinthians        1 Corinthians vi. 19.
E n-hakkore         Judges xv. 19.

                                JOHN WEST
                            (Aged 9 years).

_Biggleswade._




SOMETHING ABOUT FOXES.


That always entertaining writer about birds and animals, J. G. Wood, has
a pleasant paper on "Foxes" in the _Child's Pictorial_. The author of
"Homes without Hands" says:--

Many foxes have been known to climb trees, and hide among the branches,
where no dog could smell them. Only a few months before these lines were
written, the East Kent foxhounds met near Dover. The master of the hunt
had been told that foxes had been seen to run up a tree, which was
pointed out. A man was sent up the tree, and out came a fox, which was
hidden among some ivy about twenty feet from the ground. The animal was
chased, but after a while the scent failed and the fox escaped. The hunt
then returned to the tree, and again sent a man up it. Presently a
second fox came tumbling out of the ivy, but mistook his distance, and
jumped into the middle of the hounds, which tore it to pieces before it
could recover from the fall. The man continued to search the tree, and a
third fox leaped out, and was killed close to the South Foreland.

In December, 1885, a fox was found near Oswestry, and after being chased
for some time, it ran up a tree, to the height of at least forty feet,
and hid itself among the ivy with which the tree was clothed. It was
soon turned out of its shelter, and, after running for about half an
hour, got away from the hounds, probably by some equally clever trick.

There are foxes known which have been hunted for several seasons and
never taken; and those who have seen them run, say that the animals do
not seem in the least afraid of the hounds, but trot on quite gently for
some time, knowing that, in the end, they will give their enemies the
slip.

Mr. Webster relates an amusing story about a cunning old American fox.
It had been chased over and over again, and always escaped near the same
place, namely, a wooden fence outside a plantation, which led into a
thick forest. Hounds were brought from great distances in order to catch
this fox, but never succeeded. The fox always made its bed in the middle
of a large field, and did not try to hide, but gave the hounds a good
run, and then disappeared at the fence.

Now, in America there are no hedges, the fields being divided by railed
fences. Westward, where wood is almost valueless, the "snake" fence is
used, but in the more cultivated parts the fence is made by fixing two
strong stakes in the ground, so as to cross each other like the letter
X, and nailing them together where they cross. Long poles are then laid
on the crossed stakes, so that the fence can be made to any height which
is most convenient, the poles being seldom nailed, but held in their
place by their own weight.

Now, foxes often run along a fence, or the top of a wall, as far as the
end. Then they go back for some distance on their own track, and leap
off the wall as far as they can, so as to mislead the hounds. Knowing
this trick, Mr. Webber took the hounds all round the fence and the
plantation, but could find no signs of the fox

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