THE SEASONS.-SPRING. "Hail, bounteous May! thou dost inspire PRING! sweet Spring! with what pleasure do we greet thee! The winter is over and gone, and the time of the singing of birds is come. In thy return, sweet season, are we reminded of the faithfulness and the ceaseless care of Him who promised long, long ago, that " summer and winter, seed-time and harvest, old and heat, should not cease." In spite of our forgetfulness of Him, He never forgets us, His poor and needy creatures. Upon Him we are dependent for every breath we draw, every crumb we eat, and every drop we drink. Did He withhold His gifts, and in the leastwise slacken His hand, how pitiable would be our position-how hapless our condition! Who could cause the sun to shine or the rain to fall but He who first spake this beauteous world into existence-who called for this to be and that to come, and they stood forth at His bidding? And yet, alas! in spite of His power and in hostility to His very being, myriads of His poor dependent creatures are exclaiming, "There is no God"! Man by nature is so completely fallen, and become so corrupt, as to sink below the very brute creation, as it is written, "The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but my people doth not know; Israel doth not consider." And even the Psalmist-the sweet singer of Israel-the man declared to be "after God's own heart," was so conscious of his own personal ingratitude and forgetfulness of God, that, after a season of fretfulness and fault-finding, because he was tried and tempted when the men of this world prospered, he exclaimed, in very disgust with himself, "I was as a beast before Thee!" May the return of this sweet season, reader, help us to reflect upon the Lord's goodness and mercy as our Creator, Preserver, and bountiful Benefactor! In the opening leaf, the bud, the blossom, and the sweet perfume, may we trace the handiwork of Him who has fixed the bounds of our habitations, and without whose notice not a sparrow falleth to the ground. Yes; He who boundeth the mighty waters, numbereth the very hairs of His people, and interests Himself in their every movement, guiding them with the skilfulness of His hands, and upholding them by His mighty power. "The God of nature and of grace His goodness through the earth we trace, "Behold this fair and fertile globe, In every breeze His Spirit blows "His blessings fall in plenteous showers That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers, "If God has made this world so fair, TALK BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE; OR, A PEEP INTO 1880. Husband.-Mary, I don't know how it is, but somehow our home is not what it once was. Wife.-William, I'm sorry to hear you say so; but I assure you I do my best to make home what it should be. H.-I don't deny that. I dare say, Mary, you do your best; still, I can't help saying, our home is not as it used to be. W.-Tell me, William, where you see a difference? H.—Oh, in many respects I see a great alteration; and I'm sorry for it. W. And I'm sure no one would be more sorry than I that our house should be less like a home than formerly; and, if it is in my power to alter it, and you will tell me how, dear William, I will gladly do my best in the matter. You will remember, however, that I'm not so young as I once was; and, when a woman has been the bearer of twelve children, as I have, it is no wonder that she does not feel so strong or bright as aforetime. H.-I'm quite aware of all that, Mary; nor do I wish to find fault without cause. Still I can't help comparing the present with the past; and, in doing so, one can't but see a difference, and a great difference, too. Why, don't you remember, Mary, how very comfortable off we were, when I had even far less wages than now, and when we had several young children, too? There was Mary and Betsy and Tom, and poor little sickly Willy; yet, somehow, we stood it all, with the extra work and the extra cost. We had more comforts and more in pocket than now, when I find it is the hardest matter in the world to make both ends meet. In fact, I can't do it, for I'm in debt now, when I didn't owe a shilling then, and could look everybody in the face then, which I can't do now, for I know that So-and-So, and So-and-So, want their money; and this vexes me a great deal. And, to tell the plain honest truth, I'm sometimes ready to run away, and leave it altogether. W.-Oh, my husband! I'm sorry to hear you talk in this strain. This is a change indeed, and anything but a pleasant one to me. But, now that we have a few minutes' quiet to ourselves, let us see what the difference is, and how it is to be altered. As I said before, I will gladly do my utmost to make our home all that it should be. Now, begin, dear William, and tell me some of the things wherein you see a change. H.—Well, Mary, as I said before, I'm loth to find fault; but I do find the difference in many respects. Neither our food, nor our clothes, nor is the house itself, the same. Many a little comfort I used to have that I don't have now; and, as you said just now about not being so strong as formerly, neither am I so young. W.-Very true, husband dear, I see the difference in you in that respect; and I see you haggard and careworn, and (pardon me, if I say it) a great deal more peevish and fretful than you used to be; and you little know how I feel and mourn over it. Many bitter tears I shed when you know nothing about it. You never spoke so sharply to me as now. I had not a cross word from you from year's end to year's end, in days gone by; but, I'm sorry to say, it is very different now. H.-I'm truly sorry that such should be the case, Mary. I don't mean to be vexed or cross; but, when money runs short, and I am asked payment for this or that debt, it does annoy me; the more especially when I think how different it used to be, when no one could say I owed him sixpence; and I really felt as independent and as free as a lord of the manor. W.-I can quite understand all this, dear William; and no one feels it more than I do. In this respect I do indeed sigh for past days; but I wish you would come a little more to particulars, so that we might see, if possible, where there's a remedy. H.-Well, now, Mary, with regard to the article of food, I'm sure we used to live far better than we do now. W.-I don't deny that, my dear husband. I know it was the case, and I lament he change, not so much on my own account as on your's and the children's behalf. But what am I to do? Things are become so dear, that really a shilling doesn't go nearly so far as eightpence or ninepence used to do. Why, don't you remember when you used to allow me eighteen you kept for your club and clothes. shillings a-week out of your guinea wages? The rest We used to go to market together on the Saturday evening, when we bought our bacon, or pork, or cheese, at 6d. a lb.; we had nice salt butter at 7d., and other things in proportion. Now look at the difference. Why, some things are more than half, and others nearly double, the price they used to be. And then, in the matter of clothes, why, William, if you and I were to dress in the simple but neat plain way that we did formerly, I'm sorry to say it, our very children would be ashamed of us; for, notwithstanding all my strivings to the contrary, they get notions into their heads that you and I, when children, should no more have thought of than of being lords or ladies. What could have been nicer than the neat cottage bonnet, and the pretty print dress, and simple-pattern shawl, I was married in? And you, dear William, never looked better in your life than you did in that suit of blue cloth you wore on our wedding day; nor did you ever have a suit to wear as that did. I used to delight to brush and put it away of a Monday morning, for it always helped to bring that happy day to remembrance. H.—Well, Mary, since you speak of it, I'm bound to say, you never looked prettier than you did in that print dress and cottage bonnet: and I often think, if the women-folk knew when they looked to best advantage, they'd stick to the neat cottage style, rather than adopt those high-flyers, tiny hats, and all kinds of absurdities which they now wear. Why, Mary, women would have been utterly ashamed of being seen even in their own gardens dressed up in the fashion which they don't hesitate to adopt in the streets. The modesty, Mary, which was one of woman's sacred qualities, is now a thing of the past. W.-It is, William; I know it. I'm sorry for it; and the great difficulty is to instil these things into the minds of our children. Their bent and inclination is to keep pace with the present, and not to be going back to the past. Hence the claims and the outgoings of a family so commonly exceed the income. We lack the simplicity-and, with the simplicity, the honesty-of past days. H.-It's too true, Mary; and I begin to think that things are gone too far, and reached too high a pitch, to be altered. I fear there is wreck and ruin before us. There is a seeking to set aside both masters and mistresses, and to bring all down to one common level; and it won't do, Mary, it won't do. Why, look now at our governors, for example. What would working men do without such? If there were not men of spirit and enterprise, as well as money, would ever such and such things be undertaken as we see now carried out? Labour has its claims, I full well know.. Never was there a greater truism than that "the labourer is worthy of his hire;" but capital has its claims likewise; and, if there were no men of large means to be found who were willing to embark those means in large and hazardous enterprises, what need, I ask, would there be of labour? Moreover, our Government investments and other securities now pay so low a rate of interest, and as trading occupations are looked upon in a very different light to what they used to be, that very low rate of interest has prompted men to embark their capital in trade; and this, we know, leads to rivalry and competition. Estimates are given and contracts taken at a mere shade of profit; and as no trade can be carried on without a certain amount of risk, of bad debts, fluctuating prices, through variable seasons, change of fashion, and such-like contingencies, I fear the combinations and the strikes and the short-hour systems are either driving the trade out of the country, or will cause men of means to employ their capital in other ways, and thus virtually materially affect, if not actually destroy, the trade of this kingdom. W.-With respect to the short-hour system to which you have alluded, do you think, dear William, that the working-man is really any the better off for it? When I go to shop or market, and object to the price of certain things as contrasted with the past, I'm continually met by the objection, "We can't grow it or buy it, so as to sell it for less money. The price of labour is so increased, that we are obliged to increase our price, or we shouldn't be able to live at all. In fact," say they, "we did better at the lower than we do at the higher price." Again, dear William, do you think that men are really better off now that they have more time on their hands? In "71, if you remember, they clamoured for nine hours a-day: and now that in the year 1880 they work but eight hours a-day, I don't see that they are a bit better satisfied, but rather the reverse; for there is So-and-So, and So-and-So, our neighbours, whom I often see loitering about for a whole day, or even two or three days together, without going to work at all. And I see from their very looks, and the general appearance of all about them, that they are not nearly the happy or contented men which they were when they used to go regularly to their work and come home to their meals, and of an evening attend to their bit of garden, whitewash or colour their houses, and paint the trellis-work of their doors and windows. Now they have more time, they appear to have less taste; with more pay they take less pains; and I fear the less they have to do, the less inclination they have for doing that little. And one of the most painful features of the case is, that the children, with such examples, are seeking to tread in their fathers' footsteps. H.-Mary, Mary, I fear it is so; but my time is up, and we must reserve our further talk for another time. POOR ELSIE. LEAVES FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A CLERGYMAN'S WIFE IN SOUTH AUSTRALIA. (Concluded from last number.) read-"of the Passover;" and, having gone through the beautiful story in the Bible, the teacher turned and said: "And now, my dear children, which of you can explain to me the meaning of the Passover, as regards the past dispensation and the present ?" After waiting a few moments Elsie looked up wistfully and said, "I think I understand it: may I explain ?" She then in a very subdued manner said, "I believe the Passover was typical of our Lord Jesus Christ's blotting out our sins. The Jews having slain the lamb, sprinkled the door-posts with its blood, and then the destroying angel passed over every door where he saw the blood, and did not smite the first-born; but where there was no blood he entered, and the firstborn was slain in each famly. Now, teacher says Christ has been slain for us, and that if His blood is sprinkled on our hearts it will cleanse them; so when we are taken by the angel of death, and we have the LSIE, of all my children, was blood of Christ on our hearts, he will pass over us, that the most diligent in attendance, is, we shall be taken to heaven because the blood and my prayers were heard and was on us, and we shall not be destroyed; and this answered concerning her: from is what I think I have learnt about the Passover, being a thoughtless, careless girl, and what it was a type of; and if I have Christ's blood and often disobedient, she now sprinkled on me I shall be safe from the destroying became a pattern for obedience angel." Dear child! it was about the last answer she and gentleness in her family; and ever gave her teacher. Little did Elsie think that the interested in good things her- angel of death was then hovering over her young head, self, she, like Philip of old, was and that she should be soon presented at the throne anxious to bring others to find of her Father in heaven sprinkled with her Saviour's the truth. She roamed over her blood. I went one Sunday afternoon to the school; own beloved hills and the rocky mountains she so Elsie was absent; it was an unheard-of thing, and we delighted in. She found out here and there a rough felt anxious. Inquiries were made; a rumour was hut, almost unknown to man, and these human beings afloat she had gone home from her place of service, were far removed from the advantages of education, and was ill; but no one breathed of danger or and almost from civilization. She found out the death, or of any alarming illness. As I have told you children belonging to these isolated families. She in my former chapter, the walk to Elsie's home was promised, if they would collect together at her so wild and rough that it was only at certain times, and cottage, she would take them with her, the long, on certain kind days that those unaccustomed to the lonely path to the school I have described, and bring path could manage it. The minister found his way them safely back to that spot, from whence they there as often as he could; but, with a very large and could easily scatter themselves to their own home-scattered congregation, of course his visits could only steads. Thus she folded the lambs, and acted as a little missionary in the wilds: and it was a beautiful sight to see Elsie and her mountain troop following her into school. They were indeed untamed, wild spirits, as wildly clad and wildly mannered; but so did they love the gentle peasant girl that by degrees they all became tamed, and all came regularly to school; and then Elsie would say to me, "Please, ma'am, if you could get as far, I should so like you to go and see the children in their homes, when you come to see me." Some of the brightest hours of my life I have spent in Elsie's cottage. It was a most fatiguing walk, but I loved it; and to see me arrive with a dear friend was the signal of her glory. She put the kettle on, got her mother to skim her best pan of milk for cream, ran for some of her own honey, and beautiful fresh butter and new-laid eggs, in which she so prided herself; and then, with the table laid so that I could sit and gaze on the magnificent view before me, I enjoyed a simple repast kings might have envied. When rested, Elsie would go and show me her wild flowers and her favourite haunts, and then lead me to the poorer cottagers (her position was quite superior to them), and tell me all about the children, and all about what they did and what they were. The sands of Time can never efface these hours from my memory. Months fled on; Elsie grew tall and active, and apparently strong; and her parents deemed it wise for her to take a situation as nurse-girl in a respectable family; but she stipulated never to be kept from her school, if possible. The amount she learnt of her Bible was something perfectly surprising; her character was most consistent; she seemed growing in wisdom as well as stature. I thought how delightful it would be, in a short time, to make her a teacher in one of the junior classes; she was a delight to me, a comfort, and an encouragement to work when I felt disheartened. I thought I should be able to do so much with her. I little dreamt her hours were numbered, and that her Heavenly Father wanted her up above. Soon after this Elsie became more decidedly religious than ever. One day the class was gathered as usual in the Sunday School to which Elsie belonged, and she was there with her beautiful chapter in the Bible perfectly learnt, and repeated better than anyone in her class. The subject was discussed and then be occasional; and in cases of danger he always depended upon his people sending for him, when he went at all risks. However, no summons came. The weather was very bad on the Monday following the Sabbath; we had heard rumours of her indisposition; and we determined, if possible, to go the next day and ascertain the truth for ourselves. Never shall I forget the sickening scene of sorrow which seemed to pervade the whole house, when on the Tuesday morning a messenger arrived from the hills to say Elsie was no more. In vain we inquired why no message had been sent for us, no warning had been given; why this dear child of so much promise had died in her wild mountain home without one of those whose spiritual instruction she had so loved and valued to be near her dying bed. The messenger could not tell us. As soon as possible we had communication with the poor mother and sisters, and we found the truth was this: that Elsie from the first of her very, very short illness had believed herself dying, but that up to the last hour of her life the doctor thought she was in no danger, and on the morning she died said she was better, and her mother saw nothing to alarm. They (knowing the distance, and difficulty of access to their cottage) did not like to trouble us, and, in truth, could not bear to own to themselves that there was any need for sending to us in haste. But how beautiful was the testimony borne by the mother, though a godless woman herself, to the glorious effect of Gospel light on her dying child! The account of her illness was this: Elsie did not seem well, and had pains in her limbs, apparently rheumatic; and her mistress, anxious about her, sent for her father to take her home. She rapidly grew worse, and implored they would send for us; but her mother said, "Oh, if you are not better, I will; but you are not very bad, and it is not worth troubling them." Poor Elsie was not to be put off, and kept imploring her dear teachers should be sent for; but the mother kept putting it off, evidently afraid of allowing to herself that there was danger to be apprehended, and I believe she honestly thought Elsie was mistaken in her feelings of severe indisposition. On the morning of the day on which Elsie breathed her last, the doctor had seen her and pronounced her better; but whilst the mother was out of the room a few minutes, the rheumatism, which had before kept to the extremities, appears to have suddenly flown to the heart, and when she entered the room she saw death written on the face of her darling. Then, too late, she grieved she had not sent for us at her daughter's earnest entreaties, and she immediately said in reply (to her expression of great suffering) that she would send away for us immediately. "It's too late, mother," said my poor Elsie; "it is too late now; but it can't be helped; I am dying, but, oh, I am so happy! it's all so glorious! I am going fast, mother, very fast;" and here the agonizing pain took away her breath. When she recovered partially from the paroxysm she said, "Oh, mother, I shall never, never see my beloved teacher and minister again; but tell them the blood of Jesus Christ is sprinkled on me, the angel of death is come to call me; but the blood will save me, the hand of condemnation will (as teacher said) pass over me, and not rest upon me. I have been very sinful, but the Sinless has died for me, mother; and, oh, I am so happy! I'm not afraid to die. Tell my dear teacher how I loved her, and my minister how I thought of him; tell him we shall, I am sure, meet in glory, and I shall be there to welcome them." 66 Then, after a little rest, she spoke again; but life was fast ebbing. "Mother, don't you see them waiting for me?" "Who are waiting for you?" said her mother. “What do you mean ?” 'Oh, mother, can't you see them-those beautiful angels-round me,and don't you hear them singing? I am sure I do. Oh, they are calling me; they are beckoning me. Mother, don't you see them? Don't keep me; oh, let me go; let me go." And Elsie went; no fond mother, no loving teacher would have dared to detain her, could they have done so. The fiat had gone forth; the Master needed her, and He took her from the evil to come. Sunday-school teachers and district visitors who have laboured hard and long with little success, take heart from the story of my mountain child. We are not always, nor very often, permitted to see the seed we have sown bringing forth fruit; but how has this one instance cheered me on, and nerved me with faith and hope and love to fresh exertion! The bitterness of Elsie's mother was indeed great at finding she had denied her dying child her only request"that she might see those who had been the humble instruments of leading her from darkness to light, from sin to holiness.” And perhaps we were almost as much to be pitied, at having so bitterly to regret we were not informed of her dangerous state and desire to see us. We could not believe the news-it was so awfully sudden, so unexpected. It came down upon us like a clap of thunder, to know that she was really dead. From that little cottage I have drawn, down the steep mountain ravines did a few mourners wend their sorrowful way with all that remained of poor Elsie; and we gathered all our Sunday-school flock together, and the children whom in life she had loved to bring to the house of God, and followed her to her grave; and when the small procession drew near we all joined it, and accompanied the coffin, first into the house of God, then to its last resting-place. In that place of worship how constantly had the departed one loved to sit and listen to the word of truth, both from her minister and her teacher! and now never more would she gladden us with her bright smile and happy face; never more would she traverse the mountain path I have described to find her place amongst the worshippers. We laid her under some of the native trees she loved, in the quiet burial-place; and the wattle sheds its golden blossoms yearly over her early grave, and the wild flowers bloom upon it and tells us it is spring. The mountain fastnesses no more shall ring with her joyous song, and her favourite flowers bloom unheeded by those who are left in her home. Still, she being dead yet speaketh; she was so living a testimony to the change wrought by the power of the Spirit, that she was seen and read of all men, though at the early age of sixteen she finished her earthly career; and, when weary and disheartened, my spirit seems grieved with my small amount of success I remember Elsie is waiting to welcome me; and the One who permitted me to assist in guiding her to glory will I doubt not lead me there also. FAITH alone affords an evidence, faith alone can bear undoubted testimony and witness to my soul, of those things which I see not and yet believe. NATURE'S MIGHTY WONDERS. M ESSRS. PARTRIDGE AND CO. have just issued, in their own finished and attractive style, an excellent work, entitled NATURE'S MIGHTY WONDERS, from the pen of Dr. NEWTON. A better volume for the young, at this juncture, could scarcely have been conceived. It is reflective-suggestive-admirable in every respect. The glorious themes upon which the talented author dilates are illustrated, in the most forcible and telling way, by anecdotes of the most apt and pleasing character. We give an example or two, as well as a specimen of the wood-cuts. "And when we think of the number of the stars, it should teach us a lesson of trust. I want you to connect these two words together. Whenever you look at the stars, or think how many there are, let their number lead you to trust God. "The God who can take care of so many worlds at once, can do anything for His people that He sees will be best for them. It is worth while to trust in such a God. If we only learn to trust God properly, it will make us very happy. And looking at God's works should lead us to trust Him. "Some years ago there was a German prince, whose name was Baron H-. He was a good Christian man, and he lived in a fine old castle, on the banks of the river Rhine. He had only one son, who was a very good young man, not only a comfort to his father, but a blessing to all his people who lived on father's land. "It happened once, while this young man was away from home, that a French gentleman came to the castle, on a visit to the Baron. This French gentleman did not believe in God, and never thought of trusting to Him for anything. "One day, when they were talking together, he said some things about God which grieved the good Baron very much. He could not help saying to him, 'My friend, are you not afraid of offending God, who reigns above, by speaking of Him in this way ?' "No,' said the gentleman. 'I have never seen God. I know nothing of Him, and care nothing about Him.' The Baron said nothing more to him at that time, but resolved to try and show him how wrong he was, before he left his house. So, the next morning, he took him about his castle grounds to show him different things. In the first place he showed him a beautiful picture that hung on the wall. The gentleman admired the picture very much, and said, 'Whoever drew this picture must be a very good painter.' "My son drew that picture,' said the Baron. "Then your son is a very clever man,' said the gentleman. The Baron then went with him into the garden. It was beautifully laid out, with a great variety of the finest flowers and trees. "What a beautiful garden!' said the gentleman. 'Do tell me who planned and arranged it?' "It is my son's work,' said the Baron. "Indeed,' said the gentleman; 'I am beginning to think very highly of him.' "The Baron then took him into the village, and showed him a nice cottage which his son had built, at his own expense, as a home and school for all the young children in the village who had lost their parents, where they could be taken care of and educated. The little children in the home seemed so clean and comfortable and happy, that the gentleman was quite delighted with the sight of them. And when he had returned to the castle he said to the Baron, "What a happy man you must be to have so good a son!' "Very true,' said the Baron; and it is just in this way that I judge of the character of our Heavenly Father. I know by His works that He is a God of infinite wisdom, and power, and goodness. And every star that twinkles in the sky by night, and every tree that grows in the field, and every flower that blooms in the garden by day, seems to tell me that I ought to love Him and trust Him."" Here is another; and, did space permit, we might multiply quotations from this admirable volume:"Some years ago Captain D. commanded a fine ship that sailed from Liverpool to New York. During one of his voyages he had all his family with many emigrants on board the ship with him. "One night, while all were quietly asleep, a sudden squall of wind arose. It struck the vessel with great force, and threw her over on her beam ends. There was a great tumbling and crashing of things on board. The passengers awoke in a great fright. They were in great danger. Every one on board was alarmed. Some jumped out of their berths, and began to dress themselves in a hurry, not knowing but that the vessel would soon sink. THE BIBLE AND THE SULTAN. ERHAPS one of the most wonderful events of modern times is that of the Bible presented to the Sultan. Mr. Barker, the agent of the Bible Society, was favoured with an interview in the grand audience chamber, when, with much apparent pleasure, his Majesty received that holy volume, whose influence has made England great, noble, and free. Before entering the Sultan's presence, Mr. Barker inquired if he might address a few words to him on the subject of his mission, but he was told that, as his chief secretary had communicated to him every particular, he had only to bow, and if his Majesty put no question he must retire without saying a word. The Sultan, however, inquired after his health, and how he liked Constantinople and its climate. Mr. Barker answered that it was a fine place, and that he had no reason to complain of the climate, for, during the ten years he had lived in it, he and his large family had not wanted a doctor; at which he smiled and said, "May you never need one!" When Mr. Barker was retiring, the Sultan called out that he might see the palace, and ordered his chief chamberlain to accompany him and show him everything. The new palace is furnished splendidly, quite in the European style. This was probably the first Bible presented to the head of the Mahometan faith, and he certainly would never have been so courteous and amiable, or so readily have granted an audience, if he had not been pleased with the present. The fact of the Sultan and the Grand Vizier receiving the Scriptures publicly, and with apparent respect and cordiality, is a great and essential point gained, for who can now cry out against the circulation of the Turkish Scriptures? Here is, indeed, a new thing in the world the great God's doing, we must acknowledge. Who would have been bold enough, twenty years ago, to predict that the head of the Mahometan faith would voluntarily receive a copy of the Bible as a gift from the English Bible Society, - a society whose avowed object is the universal circulation of the Scriptures as the only effectual antidote for all the false religions that prevail in the world? It has been stated that the Sultan is not content that the Bible should be carefully preserved as a literary curiosity in his study, but requires that it should be read in his hearing, that he may inform himself of its contents. Who can tell what effect this may not have on Mahometanism W. "The captain had a little girl on board, about in India even at the present time? 666 'What's the matter ?' asked the frightened child. They told her that a squall of wind had struck the ship, and thrown her on her side. "Is father on deck?' she asked. "Yes, father's on deck.' OVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES. AT the last ordination of the Bishop of Worcester, Mr. N. H. M'Neile was admitted to the office of deacon. This gentleman is a son of the highly "Then it'll be all right,' she said, and quietly sank esteemed and respected Dean of Ripon. He has back on her pillow, and went to sleep again." "How beautiful this was! What a lesson we should learn from it! We have a Father in heaven, wiser, and stronger, and better by far than that little girl's earthly father was. And when danger comes, or storms burst upon us, we may be sure our Heavenly Father is always on deck. He knows all about the vessel, the winds, the waves, the rocks, the storms. He is on deck at all time. He that been blind from his infancy, but has so profited by the opportunities afforded him by embossed books -classical, mathematical, and theological-that he graduated with honours, and took a prize for Hebrew in the University of Dublin. Before ordination he successfully passed a strict examination.-Rock. OUR RECENT NUMBERS. WE are happy to hear, from our Publisher, that the recent numbers of this work, containing portraits of the Queen, the Prince of Wales, and other members of the Royal Family, have been graciously received by Her Majesty; and that, at the Queen's command, duplicate copies were immediately sent for by special messenger. THE LITTLE CHIMNEY-SWEEP, AND HOW HE OVERCAME TEMPTATION. POOR chimney-sweeper's boy was employed at the house of a lady of rank to cleanse the chimney of her ante-chamber. Finding himself on the hearth of her ladyship's dressing-room, and perceiving no one there, he waited a few moments to take a view of the beautiful things in the apartment. A gold watch, richly set with diamonds, particularly caught his attention, and he could not forbear taking it in his hands. Immediately the wish arose in his mind," Ah! if thou hadst such a one!" After a pause, he said to himself, "But if I take it I shall be a thief! and yet," continued he, "nobody would know it; nobody sees me-nobody? does not God see me, who is present everywhere? Should I be able to say my prayers to Him after I had committed this theft? could I die in peace? Overcome by these thoughts, a cold shivering seized him. "No!" said he, laying down the watch, "I would much rather be poor and keep my good conscience, than rich, and lose my soul." At these words he hastened back into the chimney. The Countess, who was in the room adjoining, having overheard what he said, sent for him the next morning,and thus accosted him: "My little friend, why didst thou not take the watch yesterday?" The boy was speechless and astonished. "I heard every-50 thing you said," continued her ladyship; "thank God for enabling you to resist this temptation, and be watchful over yourself for the future; from this moment you shall be in my service. I will both maintain and clothe you; nay, more, I will procure you good instruction." The boy burst into tears; he was anxious to express his gratitude, but he could not. The Countess strictly kept her promise, and had the pleasure to see him grow up a godly and intelligent man. THE DYING BOY. A LITTLE boy, who died at ten years of age, a short time before he expired, distributed his books, &c., among his young relations and friends, who stood around his bed. He gave his Bible to his brother, saying, "It is an old one, but it is a precious one; it has been a great blessing to me. The comfort I now feel I got from this book. I am going to heaven, and from this Bible it was I found the way. Study it, and treasure up these things in your mind. Remember, mine are the words of a dying brother. May this book make you happy on your dying bed!" To another relative, to whom he also gave a Bible, he said, "Here is a Bible for you: pray for a blessing on it; do not part with it, even if you should want bread. It will support you when everything else fails. It has comforted me in all my afflictions." REMEMBER, this is one of the unalterable determinations of the Gospel, that without holiness thou shalt never see God: thou canst not behold His face but in righteousness; and this righteousness con nects the cross with it. SCENES IN THE HOLY LAND. JERUSALEM, As seen from the Mount of Olives, is a plain inclining gently to the east; once enter its gates, however, and it is found to be full of inequalities. There are no level streets; houses are built upon mounds of rubbish many feet above the natural level. The houses often meet, and in some instances a building occupies both sides of the street, raised on a succession of arches barely high enough to permit an equestrian to pass under them The number of inhabitants is estimated at 1,100 Mohammedans, Christians, and Jews; to all these classes Jerusalem is holy, and is the only city in the world in which peoples of such different origin, races, languages, and religions, agree to regard with equal veneration. THE BIBLE IN THE BATTLE-FIELD. HE comfortable influence of the precious truths of the Bible at a dying hour was seen in the case of a poor soldier, who was mortally wounded at the Battle of Waterloo. His companion conveyed him to some distance, and laid him down under a tree. Before he left him, the dying soldier entreated him to open his knapsack, and take out his pocket Bible, and read to him a small portion of it before he died. When asked what passage he should read, he desired him to read John the fourteenth, and twenty-seventh verse: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." "Now," said he, "I die happy. I desire to have peace with God, and I possess the peace of God which passeth all understanding." A little while after, one of his officers passed him, and, seeing him in such an exhausted state, asked him how he did. He said, "I die happy, for I enjoy the peace of God, which passeth all understanding," and then expired. The officer left him, and went into the battle, where he was soon after mortally wounded. When surrounded by his brother officers, full of anguish and dismay, he cried, "Oh! I would give ten thousand worlds, if I had them, that I possessed that peace which gladdened the heart of a dying soldier, whom I saw lying under a tree; for he declared that he possessed the peace of God, which passeth all understanding. I know nothing of that peace. I die miserable, for I die in despair." LOST AND FOUND. BOY, who was sent upon some errand on a cold winter evening, was overtaken by a dreadful storm, when the snow fell so thick, and drifted in such a manner, that he missed his way, and continuing to wander up and down for several hours, was ready to perish. About midnight, a gentleman in the neighbourhood thought he heard a sound, but he could not imagine what it was, till, opening his window, he distinguished a human voice at a great distance pronouncing, in a piteous tone, "Lost-lost-lost!" Humanity induced the gentleman to send in search of the person from whom the voice proceeded, when the boy at length was found and preserved. Happy for him that he perceived his danger, that he cried for help, and that his cry was heard! So will it be happy for us, if, sensible of the value of our souls, and their danger of perishing in hell, we now cry out for mercy and help to that dear and gracious Friend of sinners, that great and generous Deliverer, who came "to seek and to save that which was lost; " but, if this be neglected, the soul will be lost indeed, without remedy-lost for ever! REMEMBER THE BIRDS. "O, CHARLOTTE," said a little child, on seeing his nursemaid shaking the table-cloth into the fireplace, "don't you know that God takes care for sparrows? The Bible says so; and will not He be displeased at your wasting as many crumbs as would have served the sparrows for breakfast?" A LITTLE SCIENCE FOR LITTLE PEOPLE. VI.-THE HOUSE I LIVE IN.-THE EYES. HE windows of the "House I live in" now claim attention, being an interesting part of its covering. The shape of the human eyethe window of our house - is spherical, the better to collect and concentrate the rays of light. In an adult person it is not more than an inch in diameter. The eyeball is moved by six muscles, four straight, and two oblique. The straight muscles are placed one on each side of the ball, one at top and one at bottom. They have their origin from a small hole in the skull, through which the optic nerve passes from the brain. The eye is a round, hollow sac, containing fluids covered by several layers or coats. The white of the eye, or the window-frame, surrounds the cornea, which is transparent. It is like a pane of glass set in the frame, or like a jewel in a watch. Through it the rays of light enter the eye and pass to its back part. Where the white of the eye and the cornea join, a ring or curtain, called the iris, runs inward. This curtain is sometimes light blue, sometimes gray, hazel, or black. The circular hole in the centre of the iris is called the pupil of the eye. The optic nerve, which enters at the back part of the eye, expands or spreads itself as it enters, and this expansion is called the retina, which may be called the centre of light, and is of a light gray colour. The rays of light, entering from all directions, pass through the cornea, and enter the crystalline lens, where they undergo refraction. Having arrived there, the rays diverge (something like those from a magic lantern), and fall upon the retina, where the picture is formed, and the phenomenon we understand by the word sight is effected. A curious circumstance connected with this operation of vision is that the image or picture in front of the eye is formed on the retina upside down. Thus, if we look at a horse or a tree, there is a kind of image of that horse or tree in the retina of the eye with its lowest part upwards. Is it not wonderful, then, that a few pieces of membranous material, a pulpy substance, and a little water form an organ which produces the astonishing phenomenon which we call sight? TEARS. Our remarks about the eye would not be complete if we did not refer to a small gland situated over the top corner of each eye, from which flows in small quantities a clear liquid, which keeps the eyes moist and clear. This liquid is spread over the whole surface of the eyes, the superfluous fluid being carried off through a very narrow passage into the nose. We refer particularly to this little gland, because from it spring those sacred tears which are common to our humanity, and which are often so painfully significant of the sorrow with which the heart is overweighed. Tears are nearly always brought about by trouble, although excessive joy also sets this little gland in motion; but it gives relief in either case; and, with hearts full of gratitude for the comfort it brings us in our tribulation, we turn over the pages of our Bible to the page where it is written, for the comfort of mourners to the end of Time, that the night of suffering will soon pass away, and the day dawn when God" will wipe away all tears from the eyes" of His suffering children. THE EYELIDS AND THE EYEBROWS. The eyelids contribute no insignificant share to the beauty of the face, and also guard the eyes from injury. They regulate the light when it is too strong, and, were it not for this provision, we should very soon become blind. They also spread a curtain over the eyes during sleep, and protect them from dust, flies, and other irritating bodies. The power of the eye itself in this respect is extraordinary, as it often closes with much swiftness at the approach of an object which is scarcely seen. The eyebrows defend the eyes in the same manner from receiving too strong a glare of light, and, together with the eyelids, assist in giving expression to the emotions of the mind. THE NOSE. Immediately connected with the eyes is another door of our habitation, viz., the nose. Although of many shapes, and of more or less external beauty, the service it renders to the human body is uniform and equally important. It is well known that there are exhalations and noxious substances constantly issuing from vegetable and animal matter, which, if inhaled, would be hurtful to the body, but which, by the aid of this friendly door, are detected and expelled. The nose is admirably formed for this purpose. The upper part is composed of bone, well protected, and the lower part of cartilage, with a partition down the centre, each part being regulated by various muscles. The two arches, or nostrils, run backwards in almost a straight line, and terminate in the throat, the surface being lined with a spongy substance, filled with a mucous secretion, which forms a bed for the numerous branches of the olfactory or smelling nerves. These nerves, like the optic, have their origin at the base of the brain; and, after passing through several holes in the skull, throw out their little branches in all directions, until they find a resting-place in the nose, and form the organ of sense. We may of course destroy the power of this sense by adopting an unnatural mode of living; and there can be little doubt that the habitual use of strong scent and snuff will in course of time seriously impair the natural keenness of this organ in the detection of impurities. The nose is also of considerable service in connexion with the voice, and in the process of respiration. If any of our young friends wish to test the truth of this assertion, let them hold their noses tightly, so as to prevent the transmission of air, and then try to sing or to speak. The sounds that were formerly pleasant and agreeable become unpleasant and very disagreeable; and, although we have explained the way the experiment may be made, we should not be surprised to learn that those who tried it were sharply requested to abstain from making so much noise. The fact is, the hollow spaces of the nostrils serve the purpose of an arch, causing the sound to improve in tone, and answer the same design as a sounding-board does, which we see sometimes over the pulpits of some of our large churches. THE APARTMENTS AND FURNITURE. Having covered the framework of our house, it is place in which each article is to stand are happily not difficult to furnish it, as the furniture and the not left to our choice, but are wisely arranged for us by the great Designer-not only of our house, but-of the whole universe. We are therefore spared one of the difficulties we experience in furnishing an ordinary habitation; for, in the house we are about to furnish, it can with absolute truth be said that there is "a place for everything," and that everything must be in its proper place, or the whole house will be thrown into the direst confusion. We cannot remove an article from one place to another, to see how it will look, as we do sometimes in a newly-furnished house; and there are no empty, partly furnished, or lumber rooms to be seen. The smallest nook is fitted with a special piece of furniture, which fills it exactly; and if, through accident, one piece happens to get out of its proper place, the most uncomfortable consequences ensue; and, unless it can be got back immediately, the whole structure-noble and beautiful though it may be-is involved in hopeless ruin. THE BRAIN. The first and most important apartment which claims our attention is the brain. Encased in walls composed of bone, to protect so delicate a structure from injury, it fills up the entire cavity of the skull. It is made of a soft, pulpy material, not unlike the brain of the lower animals, but considerably larger. In an adult person the brain weighs about three and a quarter pounds. You can easily obtain some idea of the size and extent of the brain by tying a piece of string round your head from the bottom of the eyebrow, or the edge of the forehead, to the nape of the neck, letting it come down to the root of the ear. All contained above the string, except the skull itself, and the skin, flesh, and hair, is brain. The covering in the thickest part is not more than half an inch, and in the thinnest it is scarcely a quarter of an inch, so that there is room for a considerable quantity of brain. A little brain is found below the line marked by the string, but not much.. Clever men, who have made the human frame their study, have published very learned descriptions of the brain, and have divided and subdivided it into many parts, each part being designated by a hard name and special work allotted to it. We need not, however, trouble our readers with these details, especially as some of them are considered fanciful. There are physiologists who have not only traced a relation between the degree of intelligence manifested by different beings in the volume and structure of the brain, but some have gone so far as to connect different parts of the brain with different faculties, passions, and tendencies. Hence has arisen the science of Phrenology; but, while leaving to wiser heads than ours the settling of this delicate point, we may observe that, as far as we are aware, it has never been doubted that the brain is the seat of intelligence, thought, and feeling. It is also the centre of the nervous system, and is, as we have before remarked, connected with all parts of the body by thousands of nervous filaments. THE MOUTH. Though, properly speaking, one of the doors of the house, the mouth leads into a very curious apartment. It may be called the entrance chamber of the front door, and leads to other doors which open into smaller apartments. The mouth is furnished with the teeth (already described), the tongue, the palate, and several small glands. We can scarcely imagine the inconvenience we should experience if the mouth were closed. Loss of sight, smell, or hearing are calamities, but people manage to get on without them; but we can scarcely conceive it possible to live for long without the mouth. There is a case on record of a poor Canadian soldier who had part of his side shot away by a musket-ball, which also injured the stomach. The poor fellow received the aid of the most skilful surgeons, and eventually recovered; but an opening, in shape like the mouth of a purse, extended from his left side into the stomach. This opening was made to answer the purpose of an artificial mouth, and with so much success that, notwithstanding the tenderness of the part, food and drink could be introduced into it through a pipe, and, if care were used, it could be done without pain. But soon, impatience deems the process slow; At length, when concord and content have fled, Life's puzzle is as difficult to man, |