66 Don't you think you are a little hard, sir, when you talk about ruin of character and reputation? I never should have expected that to be said by you of my Lizzie and Annic," exclaimed my good neighbour, bursting into tears. you 66 Let me tell what I heard one of those two young men, who have just taken Beech Farm, say to the other last Sunday evening, after service, as they were walking behind your two daughters, Mrs. Page,”—and I whispered the words (which I will not repeat) in her ears. You should have seen the start she gave. "Oh dear! Mr. S what shall I do? What will become of my poor girls?" she exclaimed. "Deal faithfully with them, and tell them of their danger," said I. "Won't you help me, sir? If you would only say a word or two to them ;-you have known them so long, and they you." 66 No; that will not do. You are the proper person. Speak you to them, Mrs. Page. Tell them all I have told you. If they listen to you-which I am almost sure they will do-it will be well." Mrs. Page did speak to her daughters; and her daughters had the good sense and filial duty to hear what their mother said. The very next Sunday there was a very marked difference in their dress (which had been made both neat and becoming); and I am glad to say that, after a little friendly interposition, and explanation and hesitation, Mrs. Dawes consented to try Lizzie; and Mrs. Welsh, Annie. I am still more glad to say they made good servants, though for a little while they were entrapped into the folly of trying to be fashionable young ladies. THE PRISONER OF GLATZ. Na cleft of a mountain range in Upper Silesia, through which the wild and raging Neisse forces its passage down to the Oder, stands the impregnable Prussian fortress of Glatz, a natural fastness, almost unequalled in the world, begirt by mountain peaks like walls, and fortified yet more by human skill. The valley itself is shut out from the rest of the world; and one who is enclosed by the massive walls and gratings of the castle is an exile from the world, as if buried alive. Woe to the man imprisoned in Glatz! Everything calls out to him, "No hope remains for thee-no hope!" Here, in the second decade of this century, lay the Count of M, hitherto petted and courted, now hopelessly immured behind bolts and bars. By treason against the realm, and especially by personal insult offered to Frederic William III. of Prussia, he had drawn down the anger of that monarch on his head, and was condemned to solitary imprisonment for life. For a whole year he lay in his frightful lonely cell, without one star of hope in either his outer or inner sky, for he was a sceptic. They had left him only one book-a Bible, and this for a long time he would not read, or if forced to take it up to kill time and relieve his consuming weariness, it was only read with anger and gnashing of teeth against the God it reveals. But sore affliction, that dreadful and yet blessed agent of God, that has brought back to the good Shepherd many a wandering sheep, was effectual with the nobleman. The more he read his Bible the more he felt the pressure of the gentle hand of God on his forlorn and hopeless heart. On a rough and stormy November night, when the mountain gales howled round the fortress, the rain fell in torrents, and the swollen and foaming Neisse rushed roaring down the valley, the Count lay sleepless on his cot. The tempest in his breast was as fearful as that without. His whole past life rose before him; he was convicted of his | manifold short-comings and sins; he felt that the source of all his misery lay in his forsaking God. For the first time in his life his heart was soft and his eyes wet with tears of genuine repentance. He rises from his cot, opens his Bible, and his eye falls on Psalm 1. 15: "Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." This word of God reaches the depths of his soul; he falls on his knees for the first time since he was a child, and cries to God for mercy; and that gracious and compassionate God, who turns not away from the first movement of faith towards him, heard the cry of this sufferer in the storm-beaten dungeon of Glatz, and gave him not only spiritual but temporal deliverance. The same night, in his castle at Berlin, king Frederic William III. lay sleepless in bed. Severe bodily pains tormented him, and in his utter exhaustion he begged of God to grant him a single hour of refreshing sleep. The favour was granted; and when he woke again he said to his wife, the gracious Louise, "God has looked upon me very graciously, and I may well be thankful to him. Who in my kingdom has wronged me most? I will forgive him." "The Count of M," replied Louise, "who is imprisoned in Glatz." "You are right," said the sick king; "let him be pardoned." Day had not dawned over Berlin ere a courier was despatched to Silesia, bearing to the prisoner in Glatz pardon and release. Yes, the God of our fathers still lives; he hears the cry of his children, and many times he answers even before we rightly call upon him. TAKE, AND DRINK. SHIP was once sailing in the South Atlantic Ocean, when suddenly the look-out saw another ship in the distance waving signals of distress. The captain altered his course so as to meet the vessel, and on coming within speaking distance, asked what difficulty or danger they were in. "We are dying for want of water," was the reply. "Draw it, then, for yourselves from the sea," answered the captain; "you are at the mouth of the river Amazon." There was that ship's crew of men perishing with thirst, oppressed with suffering and with fear, anxious to quench their raging thirst, but supposing they were surrounded on every side by the briny waters of the ocean, while in fact they were within the mouth of the greatest river in the world, pouring its flood of fresh water for leagues out into the ocean. And yet they were fearful of dying of thirst, though there was sweet water for a hundred miles around them, and they had only to draw and drink it. How many an unhappy voyager there is on the sea of life, suffering with that thirst which the brackish waters of earthly pleasure can never quench; but not knowing that on every side the sweet waters of eternal life lie within reach free to all. Christ says: "If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." "The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and let him that heareth say, Come; and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." These waters of eternal life are all around you. Draw for yourself, and drink, and never thirst again. Abide with us-f -for well we know Abide with us-and still unfold What wondrous things of Christ were told! Abide with us-amazed they cry, RAFFLES. HEN Peter began to say unto him, Lo, we have left all, and have followed thee. "And Jesus answered and said, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life." JULY. 1:69. H |