down in his foot, and they had to cut the foot off, in hopes that that would stop it; but it didn't; and then they cut off the leg above the knee, and that didn't stop it; and it's creeping up, up, up; and finally it will be the death of him. He suffers dreadfully at night "Well, that is strange," said Edward; "I-sometimes no sleep at all for two or three am sure I would be happy if I were in his place." "I am afraid you would not," said his father; "for I believe it is having so many things that makes him unhappy.” 66 Having so many things, papa!" said both boys. 66 Yes, my sons; but I will explain this more to you some other time. However, this afternoon, as you are going to have a ride with me, I think I will take you over to see a little boy who is a very happy boy, as I think," said their father. "I wonder if this can be the house?" said Edward to Robert, as the carriage stopped before a very small brown house. Their father got out, and asked them to walk in with him. It was a very little house, with only two rooms in it; and in the one they entered they saw a very pale, thin, little boy, lying on a small low bed in front of the door. His face was worn by disease, and his little hands, which were folded on the outside of the bed, were so thin, one could almost see through them. He had a few playthings lying by him on the bed, and on a little stand by him was a cracked brown mug, in which were some sweet-peas, and larkspurs, and lavender, and bright yellow marigolds; beside which lay a well-worn Bible and hymn-book. His mother was ironing in the next room; but when she saw the boys and their father, she came forward to receive them. "Well, my little fellow," said Mr Thompson, "how do you do to-day?" "Oh, pretty comfortable," he said. "I have brought my boys to see you," said Mr Thompson. The sick boy smiled, and reached out one of his thin little hands to welcome them. Edward and Robert took his hand, and then turned and looked anxiously at their father. 66 Papa, how long has he been so sick?" asked Robert. "More than a year, young gentlemen," said his mother; "it's a year since he has been able to sit up; and it's four months since he has been able to be turned at all in bed. He has to lie all the time, just as you see, on his back." "Oh, what a long, long time!" said Edward; "why can't you turn him, and let him lie on his side?" "Because it hurts him to lie on either side." "What is the matter with him?" asked Robert. "Why, the doctor says it's a complaint of the bone. It began more than two years ago, nights." "Oh, father, how dreadful!" said Edward, pressing close to his father. Whose nurse was buried under an oak? What particular name was given to this tree? Where is it said, "Every man shall sit under his vine, and under his fig-tree?" Why did Solomon wish to have cedar-trees, fir-trees, and algum-trees out of Lebanon ? Who says, "I am like a green olive-tree in the house of God?" Where is it said, that "all the trees of the field shall clap their hands?" Find the parable of the trees who wanted a king to reign over them? Who climbed up into a sycamore-tree to see Jesus? With the branches of what trees did the people come out to meet Jesus? Where does the Saviour compare Himself to a vine, and believers to the branches? To what tree did Jesus come seeking fruit? On either side of what river is there the tree of life? How many kinds of fruit does this tree bear? How often does it yield its fruit, and what are its leaves for? Where is it said that they who do the commandments of God have a right to the tree of life? Published by A. STRAHAN AND Co., 42 George Street, Edinburgh; and E. MARLBOROUGH AND CO., 4 Ave Maria Lane, London REVISED BY THE REV. NORMAN M'LEOD, D.D., GLASGOW. WEEKLY NOS. ONE HALFPENNY.] [MONTHLY PARTS, THREEPENCE THE CHRISTIAN AT SUMMER RETREATS. WE must allow that religion has suffered immensely from a want of a uniform consistency of conduct on the part of its professed advocates; from an unwillingness to let its light shine amid all the varied circumstances and positions of life, and the reluctance to act out the principle, "Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." How many there are at this hour, at the resorts of gaiety and fashion, who give no indication that they differ in any particular from the pleasure-loving multitude; who afford no sign that they have been solemnly consecrated to the service of a Master, who will require a strict account for every moment of time, and for every idle word that is spoken! We would be the last to advocate that phase of religious zeal which would interfere with any proper recreation or enjoyment, or which would thrust itself upon all circles, at all times, without the exercise of discrimination. We have implicit faith in the power of religion, to impart not only cheerfulness but buoyancy to the soul, to add happiness to all the relations and circumstances of human life. But it is one thing to be carried away by the tide of fashion, to have religious principles swamped in the frivolities and gaieties of the passing hour, and quite another to maintain, amid all our pleasures, that lofty Christian bearing, reverence for everything sacred, and true Christian courtesy, that would lead every spectator to take knowledge of us that we had been with Jesus, and had learned of Him. This tendency, when withdrawn for a season from the restraints of home, to lower the standard of the spiritual life, leads to another of a more serious and permanent character; and that is, the liability, when we move from the country to the city, to leave behind our religion. It is a fearful and startling fact that No. 30. in our cities persons may be counted by the thousand, who, years ago, in their early homes, maintained a consistent religious profession, had enjoyed, in a measure, Christian hopes, who now are never seen within the sanctuary of God, and scarcely maintain the outward forms of a religious belief. Some may occasionally attend public worship on the Sabbath, but they have never made themselves known as the friends and followers of the Lord Jesus. When, in times past, these persons were propped up by surrounding circumstances, and stimulated to duty by the circles in which they moved, they could maintain a tolerably good profession; but these props removed, their religion has caved in, and they occupy a position which, if contemplated years ago, would have filled them with the deepest anxiety. Any deviation, therefore, from the rigid path of duty is to be viewed in its tendencies. To every principle, right or wrong, there is a growth; and it is this eternal law that gives importance to what we deem the insignificant. A relaxation from business, and a resort to the country, or to the various attractive retreats that are open to the public, may be a means of positive spiritual culture. That the intense devotion to business that characterises the present age, this fierce hungering and thirsting after gain, is most hostile to the growth of vital religion, needs no argument. We almost wonder at the stability and progress of our churches, at the success of our Christian enterprises, when we realise the force of those agencies that are constantly at work to secularise everything spiritual, and enlist in the service of Mammon time, and property, and energies that belong to God." Now, for the growth of personal piety, for the cultivation of the pure, noble, and heavenaspiring virtues, there must be days and weeks freely"? rescued from the toil of the counting-room him come and take of the waters of life and store, and given to religious meditation, and the study of the character and perfections of the Deity through His works. Let one escape from the prison-streets of the city, from the suffocating moral atmosphere occasioned by the constant rush for the gold, and silver, and perishable things of earth, and if he has a spark of religious reverence or love, it will be kindled by the beauties and sublimities of nature! The very breath of the mountains will invigorate his soul as well as his body. The changing landscapes will be so many pictorial illustrations of his Heavenly Father's skill, wisdom, and love. The woods, by their soft, murmuring music, their Gothic arches, cathedral lights and shadows, will invite to worship. Our summer retreats are selected at points where the artists of the Almighty have wrought with their greatest skill-where He would have His presence and His glory most intensely recognised, and His character most fervently adored. Can any one suppose that He has scooped out the channels of the river without designing that currents of thought and affection should run with them; that He has piled up the mountains to stand in solitary grandeur, apart from all appreciating and sympathising spirits; that He has built the waterfall, and ordained its eternal rush of waters, its everrising vapours of incense, revealing, as they ascend the bow of promise, its rich and variegated scenery, without a thought of the moral lesson that it is calculated to teach? Did He not place this wonder of waters on the line of the territories of two great nations, that there might be a perpetual recognition and baptism of their fraternity? Do we not see here, in the mighty expenditure of force, God's willingness to lavish upon the beautiful as well as the useful? A sordid mind might mourn over such a waste of mechanical power; but it has its connecting wheels and bands, though invisible, and they are united to the intellect to set in motion its delicate mechanism; united to the heart to quicken its aspirations. The wearing away of the solid rock, apparently for miles, by the mere flow of the waters, is an emblem of the power of influence; of the wearing away of the rock of human depravity by the current of that divine life that has been let in upon human nature, and rolls on from age to age with a full and swelling tide. Why, too, we would ask, should men resort to the springs, attracted by the healing qualities of the waters, and yet have no thought of the fountain of salvation that has been opened for the sin-sick soul? Can a multitude gather, morning after morning, to receive the cooling draughts, and not be reminded of those waters Some one has said that a splendid cathedral is but the thought of the artist embodied in stone. More truly is the earth, with its solid foundation and splendid decorations, the thought of God. The ever-flowing spring, with its healing virtues, is the emblem of His everflowing love. The mountain is the thought of His stability and sublimity. It is a consecrated temple. It is a monument of the everpresent and eternal. It calls up the emotions of the poet, as expressed in reference to Mont Blanc, whose variegated scenery, glistening peaks, five conspicuous torrents, and flowers within a few steps of the glaciers, would indicate that here was more than one thought of God. Another influential consideration is the fact, that in travelling, new avenues of usefulness are opened. of I think it will be allowed, that no circumstances in life can exempt us from the duties we owe to our fellow-men; and no Christian would desire to be released from the privilege of spiritually benefiting another, in guiding souls to Jesus. It may be said we take a journey for pleasure. We need recreation. We require a respite from the toils and cares of the Christian life. We must occasionally put off the heavy Christian armour, and have a furlough from the strife of the battle-field. Perhaps I am not familiar with the private history and exertions of the great multitude who compose Christ's army; but, as far as I know, I am inclined to the opinion, that not a very large number suffer from over-exertion in the cause of their Master. In this age ease and luxury, there is no immediate danger that the Church will break down under its load of cares and duties. We do not very frequently meet with those who are consumed by the fires of their zeal, or who fight too valiantly the fight of faith, or who are too anxious to win the prizes of immortality. I never heard a Christian, on his dying bed, regretting that he had been too exclusively devoted to the service of his Master-that he had been too anxious for the salvation of men. But even allowing all that is asked; admitting that we go to the springs, mountains, waterfalls, for pleasure, would it lessen one iota the enjoyment at the springs to lead a thirsting soul to the fountain of spiritual waters? Would it detract from the sublimity of mountain scenery to be able, from a lofty summit, to point a fellow-traveller to the distant mountains of spiritual light, and induce him to enter the narrow pathway leading thither Would not such a deed consecrate the moun upon which you stood, and make it a monument of the highest pleasure? Travellers are often anxious to engrave their names upon a high and conspicuous rock. Would not the engraving of the name of Jesus upon a soul-a more enduring material-be a more precious of which if a man drink he shall never thirst STORY OF A COAT. As we cannot flee from the Divine presence, so we cannot flee from that equally universal presence, danger. If you will take the wings of the morning light, and fly to that spot where no peril, physical or moral, lurks, there may one be safe without his religion. Everywhere else he needs it. You may take your seat in a railway carriage, and there is an invisible messenger by your side. You may purchase a ticket for a distant village or city, and know not that it will take you to "That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne no traveller returns." 351 bought at the cheapest possible rate, but it was bought and worn, and great was the satisfaction of the widow as she saw the improvement which the new garment made in the appearance of her boy. turbed in the attic, when it was once more summoned forth into broad daylight. Well, time wore on, and the coat gradually wore out, but not until the owner had made considerable advances in life, and was able to purchase another. The third storey was exchanged for a pretty house in the country, and that, finally, for a commodious one in the city, where, with thankful hearts, and in the enjoyment of great comfort, the widow and her son still lived together. Five years had now passed How fearful and personal the moral lessons away, and the coat had been for some time from recent accidents, against which no fore-discharged from active service, and lain undissight did provide, whatever might have been the possibilities of protection. If decayed bridges and fractured rails are to be added to collisions, and fire, and the other instruments of death, what traveller is safe? You may join an excursion party, and the notes of joy, as recently, may be changed to those of sadness. Are youth, beauty, gaiety any protection against the arrows of the mysterious, ever-present messenger? Whither shall we go and he is not? He rides upon the swift engine. He sits upon the bow of the steamer. He lurks in the pestilential vapour. He sports in the lightning flash. STORY OF A COAT. ABOUT six years ago there was living, on a third storey, in the city of New York, a widow with one son. It is hardly necessary to say she was poor. She was, however, one of those widows who, like Anna, served God day and night, and she had been permitted to see her son treading in the same path as herself. Moreover, though they were poor, they were enterprising, and they hoped, with that blessing which maketh rich, not to remain always poor. At the time of which I speak, they were already beginning to thrive somewhat in externals. The son was in a situation where his abilities were beginning to be appreciated, and they hoped for brighter days. It was only by the most rigid economy that they succeeded in maintaining an appearance of respectability, as it is termed, but they did it, and they did it, too, without incurring a single debt, which would have been contrary to their principles. Perhaps none but the poor know the devices to which the poor are compelled to resort in order to maintain a creditable appearance in the world. The widow and her son had always been contented with the humblest kind of clothing, and often that had been obtained with difficulty. But, as I have said, things were a little brighter; and after due consultation and deliberation, it was determined that, for the first time, the son should have a new and a good overcoat, such as was worn by other young men. Of course, it was In the lower part of the same city there lives, at this day, another widow, who was left alone in the world by a husband whose death was no loss to her, though it left her penniless and with three children. She, too, was a woGod of the widow and the fatherless to be a man that feared God, and she, too, found the sure friend. She laboured with her hands, and taught her children to do likewise. By one of those apparently trivial circumstances which the widow of whom I have already spoken, men call chance, she became acquainted with and she, touched by the similarity of their trials, interested herself in her welfare and that of her children. It was thus that the overcoat was transferred to another widow's son, and carefully brushed and repaired by the thrifty mother. It protected him from cold and wet for nearly two winters. At last came the great revival: the poor woman's two sons were both converted, and her heart overflowed with joy. The oldest, who was about eighteen, immediately went to work as a teacher in a mission school, and distinguishing himself by his fidelity and zeal was appointed one of the visitors of the surrounding district. One Sunday afternoon, after he had come in from his round, he sat down by his humble fireside, seeming disquieted. His mother quickly noticed it, and asked the cause. Mother," he said, "I do wish I had a little more money." "What for, Edward ?" the morning, she communicated it to her son. "Edward," said she, "I have been thinking that you might afford to give away that overcoat that Mr gave you; it has done you good service." Edward was delighted with the proposition, and went to work that morning with a light heart. A parcel was made up, consisting of the coat, an old vest, and one of Edward's oldest shirts, and the following Sunday morning he started from home very early in order to carry his gifts to his protégé. The poor man came to meeting that Sunday and the Sunday after, and then he too was converted. On Washington's birthday the happy mother took her two younger children by the hand, and came to pay a visit to her friend and benefactress, to whom she longed to communicate the little history. The children had holidays from school, and the weather was fine, so she thought it would be a pleasure for them as well as herself; but when she reached the house a crape was on the bell, and the widow was gone home.-Independent. DOMESTIC LIFE OF A MISSIONARY. I RISE early in the morning, and am occupied all day long, and yet there is no time for reading, and still less for writing letters. Next to cultivating communion with God, I feel the acquisition of this language to be most important. Until a tolerable knowledge of it is acquired my tongue is tied, and though my heart should glow with an angel's love, I could not point these perishing men to heaven. And I am sorry to find that my progress must be so slow. I keep Nestorians by me at all hours of the day, and talk and read constantly; but from week to week my power of communicating with them seems to be stationary. Perhaps you would like to know something of our manner of living, now that we have come down from Seir and are engaged in more active labour. We rise, or mean to rise, at six o'clock in the morning, though the days are now so short that we sometimes oversleep ourselves. We breakfast with great punctuality at seven; after which we have prayers in English, some four or five natives being present. Then I usually get half or three quarters of an hour for study, while Harriette is busy about the house. At half-past eight it is my duty to open the seminary and superintend it for an hour. The native principal conducts worship, reading a chapter and expounding it to the scholars. His remarks, so far as I can understand them, are very judicious, though we have little reason to think he feels the power of the gospel on his heart. After leaving the seminary, a class of some six or eight English scholars assemble at my house, where I teach them for an hour. Mar Yohannan frequently comes in and puts himself among them. His sprightliness and supe rior intelligence add much to the interest of the exercise. While this is going on, a khan, who has importuned me to teach him English, sits at the table and writes after "a copy." He is of high birth, being a nephew of the governor, but a little foolish. On this account I take little interest in his learning our language. Sometimes also Hassan Ali Khan comes, and I spend an hour or so with him. I take it for granted you know who he is. He has learned English pretty well, and has also learned very much that will give him influence among the nobles. I am more and more convinced that time spent on such young men is by no means thrown away. These Persians believe that the earth is flat and stationary, and even make it a part of their religion. But the little khan not only allows the earth to be round, but draws maps of different countries, and has made himself quite familiar with them. And now when he grows up, with these liberal views, you may easily conceive that he will do much to sweep these errors away, and prepare his people for the gospel. Science, in many other cases, has been the forerunner of religion, and I think it may be so with the Mohammedans of Persia. After my English class, Harriette reads and talks with John for an hour, while I am engaged in the same way with a boy named Yonan. His grandfather is a malek at Geog Tapa. Some time since he applied to have Yonan received into some family of the mission, and taught English. He was assigned to my care, and has been with me about three weeks. We are both very much pleased with him. He is perhaps twelve years old, and, as the Syrians say, a very "wise" boy. So far as I know he is quite serious-minded, and you would infer from his conversation that he was a true Christian. However, so much are this people accustomed to deal in pious expressions while there is not a particle of grace in their hearts, that I cannot place great confidence in his Christian character. At the same time, perhaps he is truly a child of God. Certain it is that he reads and expounds Scripture with an ability and correctness that I have never seen surpassed, and perhaps not equalled, at his age, in our own land. He seems to love to read his Bible to me, and to tell me the meaning as he understands it. As yet he knows very little English, and my only communication with him is in Syriac. If he be a Christian, God grant that he may grow fast in grace; and if he knows not the love of Christ, that he may be truly converted to Himself. Yesterday I learned with pleasure that he was one of a very few that attended evening prayers in the Nestorian church. You know that the priests read their liturgy morning and evening every day in all their churches. Yonan, without any knowledge of mine, has been there every evening. The church is only a short distance off in the city. But to return. From twelve to one I take |