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.