famitg THE SCULPTOR AND HIS CHILD. "Come in, my little girl," the sculptor said, Openine his studio-door at early morn. The sunrise glow was on her curly head, As eagerly she crossed the ilower-decked lawn. Holding the corners of her apron tight In dimpled fingers, with a sunny smile She showed it full of buds and blossoms bright; Rose, jasmine, lily, in one fragrant pile. "Enter, my child," he said. Her little feet Paused on the threshold, and her earnest eyes Gazed on his secret work of love complete, With childlike pleasure and most sweet sur prise. It was a mild, majestic, gracious form, With outspread• hands. The rosy sunrise light Melted the pure cheek with life like tints and warm, And crowned the forehead with a halo bright. With reverent mien the little one drew pearl And looked up in the face so calm and sweet ; Quick to her eyes there sprang the sudden tear, Her blossoms dropped upon the statue's feet. A deeper feeling than that glad surprise Bent low and reverently that fair young head ; At last she raised those tearful, earnest eyes, " Our. dear Lord Jests Christ I" she softly said. Her father pressed leer to his raptured heart! "Master," be cried, " no other praise I ask: My child hath known and named thee who thou art; Thus thou dost own and crown my humble task 1" A. thousand hearts that face divine has thrilled With its serene and most majestic grace Unnumbered thoughts with loving reverence • filled Since child and father saw Christ face to face. In the cathedral's hushed and solemn gloom That sculptured form shines still divinely sweet; And when the lilies and the roses bloom, The children strew them at its marble feet. —Hours at Home. THE RICH MAN. Some years ago a do'ctor found one of his patients in the country, near the end of his journey on earth, but full of joy in the hope of the rest in heaven. He thought he would take his two little sons to see this good man, that they might learn from his happiness the vanity of earthly, and the value of heavenly, wealth. He told them he would take them to see a rich man. The. doctor's horse trotted off at so brisk a rate ,that, the city pavements were soon left far behind them. When- ever they came near the beautifully kept, grounds of any gentleman's resi dence, the boys looked eagerly .out, thinking the doctor would surely turn in there. To their surprise he passed by 'all these, and stopped at last before the most forlorn-looking, tumble-down house, saying " Here we are I this is the place, boys !" " You don't mean it, sir ? This can't be the place where that rich man lives?" "Yes, it is." " A real fortune he must have, to be sure; look at that old - chimney, and those broken windows, and that old fence I Ah, doctor, you've been mak ing game of us." "I only wish I were as sure of in heriting unfailing riches as he is ; but come in," and the doctor, after a loud' rap, entered ; but the boys'. stood at the door and peeped in at the ragged old carpet on the floor, at the poor fire that smouldered amid a heap of ashes on the uneven hearth, and lastly at an old man with snow white hair, who lay upon the bed. He, seemed very feeble. The doctor talked with him for a little while in a low tone, and then called out, " Come here, boys, Mr. M. would like to see you I" The old. man brightened up at the sight of their rosy faces and vigorous young frames so fall of life, and as he shook hands with them he said, "It does me good to see you, and I thank you for coming with the freshness of your boy-life to cheer an old man like me. Your life is all before you, mine is almost spent, but die rich! I die a rich man ; what do you think of that ?" "I should think, sir, if you were rich, that you would have more nice things about you," said Edwin, the oldest boy. " Why, yes, this is a poor place" (looking about him), " but then you see all my large fortune is on the other side of the water. I am going Oross after it, and I shall have every thing I: want when .I come into pos session of that. I shall stay there al ivays you see and the moat beautiful home tlat ever your eyes beheld is all ' ready for, me. "His fortune is in Europe, I sup pose, and that is across the Atlantic Ocean, you know," said Edwin aside, anxious to display his knowledge of geography. "But, air, I should think you would be too weak to take such a journey now," said Frank. " Ah, I may be weaker still when I go down into that water, but I shall be strong and vigorous when my feet touch the other shore. I shall know no more weariness nor pain then; and 0 my riches, the exceeding great' riches that await - me there I You think my old carpet shows that lam poor now, but then gold will be so plenty that I can walk on it every day. You think my old fence a dilapidated *Air, but then I can have a fence of pure gold, all inlaid with pearls. I've got the title deeds, all secure, tot that property. All is sure; there can be so mistake about that." "He is out„of hia,httad, isn't he, doctor ?" whispered Edwin. The-dbc= tor's face wore a queer expression as he said, "Listen, he's talking again 1" " Yes, the deed . is all right, signed, sealed and delivered long ago. It had been made out for me a good while before I knew it, and hidden away. And where do you think I found it ?" " In some lawyer's office, I suppose, "No ; I don't know whether I should have found it there or not, for I never thought of looking for any thing of the sort, there or anywhere else ' • but I first heard of' it in a Sab bath school ! I went into a Sabbath school one day, and there the teacher told me that there was a, great fortune waiting for me on the other side of the water. I couldn't believe him at first, but the superintendent told me the same thing, and then the minister came into the school and told me so, and all three of them showed me writ ten proofs of the same, so I know it's all right. I was a boy then, and have been studying about it ever since, but can detect no flaw in the title. The Sabbath-school is a great place for gaining titles to large fortunes, and if you, boys, wish to be rich in the fu ture (as most boys do), I would advise you to go there pretty regularly." Here the doctor looked at his watch, and said it was time to go and see an other patient, and that if he did not hurry he should be sure to find him an impatient rather than a patient man. And so I am going to break off right here in my story of Edwin . and Frank; and leave my young readers to guess, if they have not already done so, what water the sick man had to cross in order to come into possession of his property. But before saying " good-bye" to my boy readers, I should like to grasp their hands for an, instant, and looking into their earnest eyes, ask them to in quire of their inner selves whether it will not be most grateful to them in the future to be pointed out as the "rich est man" in their city, or' to know that their title is all secure to a fortune across the water ?---Christian Herald. HOW TO LIVE, A wealthy gentleman of Boston, several years ago, gave the editor of the Worcester , Pallaclium a short nar ration of his own experience. He had an income of $lO,OOO a year, (a large sum then, but not considered so now,) a house in town, and a country-seat a few miles out. He had several chil dren—a coach, fine horses and a driver; and took pleasure in riding every day with his children. One day, when riding, the thought struck him that each one of his chil-• dren would expect to • have a fine house, and coach, and. horses and driver, as their father had before them, and to live as he lived ; and if they did not, they would be unhappy. He did not think that all of them could have things as he had them, or live as he was living ; and he rode home ; sent his coach and horses to market and sold them ; bought a cheap carry all, and became his own driver. With emphasis he declared that no amount of wealth could induce him to return to his former mode of living, for if any of his children should chance to be poor, as. in all probabili ty some of them would be, they should not suffer in.their feelings by the reflec tion that their father rode in his coach while they had to rough it on foot. The example he gave them afforded him a satisfaction greater than his wealth had to bestow. CHIEF SINNERS. " Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom lam chief.-1 TIMOTHY i. 15. Every man looks upon himself as belonging to a small, minority com posed of the world's best men_ If there were one enormous circle drawn, and another very :small one, the for mer for the great transgressors and the latter for the comparatively inno cent, all the world with one consent would seek to crowd' into the smaller circle. And in this they would be acting quite conscientiously. They are accustom?d in their self-estimates to Overrate the good and underrate the evil. Again, they judge of them selves, not by their actual works, but by their imaginations, aspirations, and unrealized capabilities. Circumstan ces, they say to themselves, keep us doWn • but we feel that we are capable of rising' to the loftiest heightsof I moral power. Their bad qualities again are treated as accidents, not properly belonging to them ; as bar nacles cleave to the bottom of a ship. Thus it was with Paul, till' the law came, and he found himself compelled to apply God's standard of goodness to himself. Then he was filled with horror; sin revived and he died ; the former Paul whom he had known and admired, and wanted all the world to admire, disappeared, and in his place came Sin, revealing itself in all his nature, all his habits, and, as it were, possessing him, from the crown of his head to the sole of his feet. He now finds it impossible to see so much sin in any other as he sees in himself; just as it is impossible for the eye to see so much of things at a distance, as of things at hand. This mighty and, as it seems, incredi ble change must pass upon all men. Yes, all the proud, the boastful, the itelf-coMpiseent, the moral; the Souls that eulogise thniAelifealiir heaven- THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 28,. 1866. born impulses and heaven-high aspi rations; these all must be brought to the condition into . which the law brought Paul. I say not-;:.:that they will not be brought out of it. When the wrath of the Lamb shall be re vealed, who shall be able to stand ? Bowen's Daily Meditations. PASSING THROUGH THE FIRE, " When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the' fire ' thou shalt not be burned ; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." This verse Jenny Lewis repeated, to herself, as she stood before the glass, brushing her bright, wavy hair, while a small May zephyr stole in, at either open window, and slyly painted a blush rose on each of her cheeks. " What a nice verse !" mused Jen ny ; " but I don't know exactly what it means. I suppose the `waters' must mean some deep trouble, some- thing very hard to bear ; and, the fire; perhaps, means something sh'arp and quick - , that I 'should get over sooner; but if I can only remember that God is with me, even the rivers' will not overflow- me." " 0 dear!" cried. Bell, as they ap proached the large school building, in an upper room of which Miss Green taught their ideas how:to shoot; "there are all the widows flying open ; ;. our lesson to-day will be smoke, smoke, aching heads, aching eyes, and horrid crossness. What a bother it is, that that old. furnace must spend all its time in smoking." • " This seems very much like a fire," Said Jenny, thoughtfully, remember ing her verse. " Fire !" cried Bell,= spitefully, not understanding the allusion : "if smoke were fire, we should have been ashes long ago. I just wish it was fire. I declare I wouldn't care a snap if that old school-house was burned up, and the furnace in it." "Well," said Jenny, laughing, "if it isn't fire., its a fiery trial. I'm sure of that.", 4 ..; . Bell's remarks proved,true. Smoke pervaded the room, and " horrid cross ness " the stholars. Many were the aching eyes and heads, and few the perfect dessons. Many inwardly, ejac ulated, as did Bell, " What a fuss 1" and a few, perhaps thought, as did Jenny, "This is a little fiery trial, and I'll try and bear it patiently for"Jesus' sake." But the smoke, instead of di minishing, seemed to increase, and Jenny's patience was almost exhaust ed,, when suddenly the cry of " Fire!" was heard, and, simultaneously, a school 'on the lower floor was dis missed, the seholars rushing out with a great deal of noise. ..6.11 the scholars in Miss Green's room started excitedly to their feet, and some rushed toward the door : but Miss Green was perfectly. calm. Standing before the door, she said quietly : " File out in order, as usual, or not at all. The, scholar that goes before her turn, will go back to her seat, and wait till the rest are all gone." There was order then, and the schol ars marched out in regular file, as was their won't; though, to speak properly, it was more of a qviiekstep than a march. Poor Jenny! She trembled from head to foot, for she was the last schol ar, in the last row. Already the bells were ringing all over the town already the engines were rattling down the streets toward. the school-house. She could hear (as she thought) the crackling of fire underneath; she could hear the shouts of the scholars as they rushed vehemently out into the open air ; but there was she, ,almost stifled in the smoky room, and she, and Miss Green must be the last to leave it. " When thou passest through the fire thou shalt not be burned,' repeated she over, and over again in her heart, and it comforted her not a little. "Jesus will bring me through this fire safely," she said to herself, " and I will trust Him." And now it was her turn to go; but the girls in front of her cried, "Its : all smoke, we can't see our way,; we shall be suffocated!' 0, Miss Green, what shall we do 2" ' " Wet your handkerchiefs in this pail of water," said Miss Green, calmly, "put them over your faces, and go straight down stairs as fast as you can feel your way,. if you cannot see it." Miss Green was indeed that day, as Fred afterward remarked, "a hero in the strife." "Poor child," she exclaim ed, " as jenny came to dip her hand kerchief in the pail, you look " But before she could finish her sen tence, Jenny fell fainting at her feet. Miss Green said not a word, but composedly ?lipped her handkerchief in the pail, put it over her face, took Jenny in her arms, and went rapidly down stairs. As the little May zephyr brushed by Jenny's window that afternoon, on its way to China, it caught a glimpse of a very pretty picture. There lay Jenny on a lounge by the window, with the blush roses all gone, to be sure, and her face very pale ; ut such a happy, trustful light in her eyes, as she lay gazing up into the soft spring sky, and such a peaceful smile on her lips, as she repeated softly to herself, " When thou passest through the fire thou shalt not be burned," that we imagine that the zephyr sang, as it danced ,on its we: 'Praise ye him, all his angels : him, all ye gap of light. Fire and hail, snow and vapor, stormy wind fulfiling his word: Both young men ,and , Plaidens,„ old men and childrehi let: them praiSe, the name of the Lore= :Congregationalist: LICENSED-TO DO WHAT? Licensed—to make the strong man weak ; Licensed—to lay the. wise man low; Licensed—a wife's fond heart to break, And make her children's tears to flow. Licensed—to do tliy neighbor harm ; -Licensed—to kindle hate and strife ; Licensed—to nerve the robber's arm ; Licensed—to whet the murderer's knife licensed—thy neighbor's purse to drain, ilnd.rob him of his very last; Licensed—to heat his feverish brain, Till madness crown thy work at last. Licensed—like the spider for the fly, To spread thy` nets for man, thy prey ; To mock his struggles—sack him dry, Then cast, the, worthless hall away. Licensed—where peace_and quiet dwell ; To bring disease and want and woe ; Licensed—to make this world a hell, And fit man for the hell below. INOIDENT AT D.R. NOTT'S FUNERAL. As the lon°. procession left the church, the driven. snow was rapidly falling, and so continued until the ar rivalat the eemetery-grounds. Though iv was felt that every attention must be paid,:to the honored remains, the inclemency of the weather made every one desirous of returning as soon as possible. The close of the religious services was followed by the quick dispersion of the assembled multitude of friends and mourners. One, how ever, remained behind. He stood at the head of the grave in tears and silence, his eyes never removed from the, coffin as it was , lowered to its last' "resting-place. The assistants of the sexton had done their work, and departed. The storm made every one anxious to find shelter; but this , mourner alone remained. The last persons of the4vtiring crowd, as they looked back, saw him,still standing by the consecrated. spot until, the darken , . ing ,snows , had hid him from their sight. It was a poor man—a very humble man. We emphasize the word; for he was one of that race to whom Many would deny the attributes Of a full humanity. He was a man for all that; for he possessed that highest thing in a man--since nearest heaven—an intelligent humility. It was one of the darkest sons of Africa that paid this touching...tribute to the dead. Many years ago, he had escaped from slavery at the South. He , had been received by Dr. Nott, " no longer as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved, both in the flesh and in the Lord." His benefactor remem bered the words of Christ, " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye haVe done it unto me.' It was a favorite text of Dr. Nott, regarded by him not as his title to salvation, or the ground of that title, but as its precious evi dence. After the passage of the Fugi tive-slave Law, apprehensions were felt for the safety of the colored man; and the doctor, obeying the higher law, assisted in his removal to Canada. The next step was to pay the debt incurred to the Constitution of the United States, by procuring funds to purchase his freedom; and Moses re turned in safety, never again to depart from one to whom he felt his life de voted. He was the constant attendant of his feeble age—he aided to nurse him during all his suffering decline. It was this man who remained list of all looking silently down upon that elosed grave. The reader will pardon us for dwelling on the incident. No better illustration could be given of much that we have attempted to say, than that which is drawn from the . spiritual relati vislup of these two friends—friends in the Saviour's sense of the word. No better proof could we offer of the perfect humanity of the one, the greatness and the good ness of the other.—Hours at Home. THE BOY THAT WOULD NOT GO TO THE THEATRE: "Georgie I G-eorgie!" shouted a bright-eyed lad, some thirteen years old, "are you going to-night?" "Going where ?" asked his compan ion. "Why,'don't you know? Down to the theatre, to be sure. Come, come, there will be great doings, brother Willie says. The hall is crowded with people, lots of hacks are round the doors, bringing more visitors, the music is playing splendidly, and you must go. Come, ,run home , and ask if you can't go with me." There Stood Fred, with cheeks like roses, eyes flashing, and his voice trembling with excitement. What cared he for the cold; let the silvery moon shine on ; let the stars whisper in their quiet beauty of a better home, whose joys are more lasting than those of earth. He is full of wild thoughts of the gay ones in that crowded build ing. "Come, Georgie, if you'll go, I'll wait for you," he cried. " There are great actors coming on the stage to night, and there will be grand times." But Georgie stood still, unmoved by this wonderful intelligence. He was not much smaller than his Mend, but to me his cool, " don't-intend-to-go" appearance made him fax the manlier of the two. No said he, firhhi" father Ays they are bid places" fol boys to b e and I shall not go." Noble answer I Would it be yours ? No doubt the performances in. a thea tre are very amusing, but will they do you any real good, or make you bet ter men ? Did you ever see a man who loved God and the Bible, or was pure in heart and life, visit a theatre ? Think of the best man you ever knew of, or read of, and tell me, did he love a theatre? gat gittft Pais. FAMILIAR TALKS-3D SERIES. IV. BY REV. EDWARD PAYSON HAMMOND.* THE BOY WHO WOULD NOT PART WITH THE BIBLE. I have been telling you, for the last few weeks, about how much the exiles from Madeira loved the precious Bible, and how they were willing to leave their country and their homes rather than lose their Bible and deny Jesus. I want to tell you a nice story about a little, boy in this country, who would not part with a Bible which his dying mother had giyen him. I feel sure that it is a true story. I want to try and' picture it all out before you, so that you will see it. Come with me, my little friends, to that small, poor-looking house. It looks as if some one lived there who had to work very hard to get bread for their mouths. We rap at the door; but no- one opens it for us. There are only two in that old house, and their thoughts .are busy. Let us step in gently and listen to their words. Ali! look I see that poor, sick, mother on her- bed in the corner of the room. She has had to work hard for a and has but few of the comforts of this life. Her husband had left this world, and all her children but one ; and he is the little `boy who stands there, weeping by her bedside. Listen, to his words : "0, mother! cannot have_you go away and leave I me here in the world all alone. , Who will take care of me when You are gone away to heaven ?" "The dear Saviour will take care of you, my boy. ,He will be more to you than father or mother. He will not ,only give you a home here, but ; if you love Him, He will take you, up to live with me in the beautiful home which He has gone to prepare for us in heaven." "But, mother, who will give me bread to eat and clothes to wear, till the time He comes for me ?" "My child, His words are : I will never leave thee nor forsake thee' I shall see you for the last time to-day, for I know I am soon to leave this earth. And when lam dead, tell our neighbors down at the corner, and they will come and bury me in the graveyard. And tell them they may have the little that is here to pay them, for the expenses. And then, when. this poor body of mine is buried in the ground, you can go away to live with your uncle, fifteen miles from here. Perhaps he will give you bread to eat and clothes to wear. I'm sorry I have nothing to give you but this Bible. It has been a great comfort to me. It has often cheered me when the world looked dark. Read it every day. Never part with it. You will find it a lamp to your-feet and a light to your path.' It tells you . all that Jesus has done to save you; how He left His beautiful home in heaven, came into this wicked world, and suf fered agonies in the garden and upon the cross, that your sins might be for given and you fitted fora home in the skies. If you obey its teachings and search for its hidden treasures it will be worth more to you than all of this world's riches. My breath fails me; I cannot -talk to you any more. I'm dying. Don't cry, Jesus is with me. He'll be with you. Good-bye. Meet me in heaven.' See, the little fellow stands and sobs and sobs. Three days have passed away. Let us follow that little boy as he leaves a home where he has spent his short life, and starts for his uncle's house, fifteen miles away. It is a warm morning, but he trudges on, often wiping away the tears as he thinks of his mother's death.. It is now almost noon; and he throws himself 'beneath the, shade of a large tree. He wipes the sweat from his brow, and then he takes his Bible from his pocket and begins to read some of the verses, which his dear mother has marked for him. He finds it written : " When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Loid will take me up." And so he reads on, thinking of what his mother told him about the Bible being such a comfort to her, for he now finds it a comfort to himself also. As he sits there turning over the leaves of the precious book, a beauti ful carriage with two fine horses drives up. The gentleman stops and says, " What have you there, my boy, which interests you so much ?" "I've a Bible, sir." The gentleman steps from the car riage and says, "Will you sell it ? I will give you half a dollar for it." Half a dollar! thought the little fellow; why that would get me a new straw hat, and mine is all torn to pieces. But then he remembered his mother's words: "Don't part with the Bible;" and he said, "No, sir; I can't sell itfor half 'a dollar." ".I'll dive you a dollar, then." * Copyright secured. A dollai why, the little fellow had never had a dollar of his own in all his life. How many nice things it would get him. But- then he thought of his mother, and said: "No ; I can't sell it for a dollar." Well, then, I'll give you two dol ars." "No, sir; I can't sell it for two dol. ars." . "I'll give you three." "No, sir ; I can't take three." "I'll give you four—four silver ollars." "No, sir ; I can't even take four:" " Well, then, I'll, give,you five." "No, sir ; I can't sell it at all; I an't take five dollop." _ . " Why won't you take five dollars for it?" The little fellow burst into tears and said : "Because, sir, my mother gave it to me; it was all she had to give me, and she told me never to part with it." The gentleman's feelings were much touched, and he asked him where he was going. He said, "I'm going away to live with my uncle, for I've no place to stay, now my mother is dead." ' "But ; " said the gentleman, "wine with me, and I'll get you a place." They drove on till they came to his uncle's house. The gentleman soon gained' the uncle's permission to take 'the boy home with him. "You," said he, „" have boys enough, and. I have none. I want a boy like this one, who loves the Holy Bible. I think 'I can trust such a boy." And he found he could trust him. That boy grew up to be a Christian man, and you will, perhaps, scarce be lieve me when I tell you that he be came a State Senator, and was always known as a good man. Do you think he was ever sorry that he would not part with the Bible his mother had given him ? He it never have been the great man he was, if he had disobeyed his mother and sold his Bible for five dollars. There is a precious verse, my dear little friends, in Eph. vi. 17, which I hope you will always remember: "And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word, of God." This verse reminds me of a nice story, which I know will interest you. When the Cumberland, a great war vessel, was fighting with the iron-clad Merrimack, Lieutenant Marcy called a little black boy, Dandy, and told him to hold his sword while he went away to command the guns. Amid all the roar of the cannon, there stood little black Dandy, holding fast the treasure given to him. At last the great ship Cumberland was broken in, piooes by the Merrimack, and began to sink. The officers fled to the life-boats and put off from the sinking ship. The lieutenant forgot all about Dandy, who stood with the sword in his hand till just as the great ship was beginning to sink, and then plunged into the water, holding the sword in his teeth. Soon the lieutenant thought of Dan dy, and. looking back, saw his head rising and falling with the waves, and the sword dragging him down. He called to the boatmen : " Turn back and save that poor black boy Dandy." " No, no !" cried the men. "We shall be shot by men from the Merri mack." "No matter if we are. I'll not leave that faithful boy to sink in these waters with my sword in his teeth." Back went the boat, and soon little Dandy lay panting in the bottom of the boat. Do you think he lost anything by his being so faithful ? Never. And if you, my dear little friends, will cling as firmly to the Bible, which is the " sword of the Spirit," you will never lose anything by it. But just as that good lieutenant flew back to the rescue of Dandy, so the dear Jesus will keep his eye on you, and he will not let yon sink beneath any angry waves of sin and temptation. My dear young readers, I wish each of you to become earnest readers of the Bible. Now I wish you would begin and read the Bible with me. Hundreds of children in Girard, in Peoria, and in Springfield have, during the past two weeks, promised me, on the fourth of this month, to begin the New Testament, and to read one chap• ter every day. We find it will take us till next February to finish it. Will you join us ? It will be pleasant for you to know that hundreds of dear children, who have lately been led by God's Spirit to love the dear Saviour, are reading the same chap ters with you. You will, for a few weeks, have to read two chapters a day till you catch up with us, remem bering that we began at the tirs: chapter of. Matthew on Monday. the fourth day of this month. I'D RATHER CARRY IT, Going from market, one day. sr' observed a very small boy, who gav" no special indication, by dress or lace of other than ordinary training in hfe carrying a basket that was so hea' , .Y . as nearly to bear him down beneath it. We remarked— "My boy, you have a heavY load ?" " Yes," said he ; " but I'd r atbe. carry it than that my mother should: I bate when Vice can bolt her argument 6 And Virtue has no tongue to check her Pride.
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