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.