not till some little time after that he did so-not till he had been prostrated by the sickness of which we have already spoken, and respecting which his medical man feared at one time that it would be fatal. Not an evening passed during that illness in which Wilson was not at his bedside, pointing him to the Saviour whenever he was able to listen, and offering with him, and for him, very earnest prayer. Through God's grace, Morris left his sick chamber "a new creature;" and thenceforward he became a devoted and useful servant of Christ.

place of worship where God applied the word so powerfully to his own heart, and that he is not without hope of better things for him.

He and his wife often say that they never knew what home really was till he became a Christian; and, under God, they acknowledge that they owe it all to the efforts and prayers of a true friend.

LITTLE MARTIN.

The company which met at the "Rising LITTLE Martin attended a village school.

Sun" never saw him there again; but the last we heard was that he had prevailed on Norton to go with him to the same

He was very happy there, for the teacher was kind, and the lessons were made so interesting that the little scholars never grew weary. All was cheerful and pleasant.

One morning a gentleman who was very fond of children came to visit the school. He was not a rich or great man, but he was one who loved the Saviour, and who delighted in doing good. Most of the children knew him, and shouted "Good morning, sir," in their clear voices, with hearty good will. The gentleman talked to them pleasantly, and then distributed among them some pretty little cards with pictures, all different, and each having a passage of Scripture or a verse of a hymn. After explaining the pictures one after another, he began to teach them the verses.

Martin was very quick, and having heard his verse repeated once or twice, he tried to make it out for himself, and before twelve o'clock he knew it by heart. Do you ask what picture was on his card? It was a child sitting before

Without true peace, or joy, or love,
For Jesus is not there.

But the desert may revive

And brighten into bloom

Oh, read and love God's holy word,

Its light will fill your home."

Little Martin ran home in great glee to show his mother his treasure, and to repeat the verse he had learned with such care.

But what is the matter? The mother starts as if she had been struck; for, in truth, she had no Bible! Years ago, when a child, she had been given one, but she had lost it in one of their removals, and since then it had never been replaced. Almost in spite of herself her thoughts were now borne back to her early home, where, morning and evening, her father had read the Bible and conducted family prayer. "Alas!" she thought, "how different things are with me now!" And her eyes filled with tears.

Little Martin looked up at his mother in surprise. "Mamma," he said, "do you want

to hear me say my verse again?"

The cherished Bible was not left in a corner to be covered with dust. Every morning and evening Martin's father conducted family prayer;

the Bible was read, loved, and obeyed, and its blessed influence "has filled the home" with peace and joy.

THE THREE PENNIES.

beginning

"A house without a Bible "

but his mother stopped him, and told him to be quiet.

Martin, however, was full of his new verse, and as he went about the house he kept repeating to himself, half aloud

"A house without a Bible

Is like a desert drear."

Then she would hear the words

"Without true peace, or joy, or love,"

and she thought of her quarrels with her husband, of the harsh words they sometimes used, and a thousand painful recollections stung her heart like a swarm of angry bees. And when again she heard the line

"For Jesus is not there,"

she felt she had the key to all her troubles; she saw in a moment what had blighted the happiness of her life, what had made in her home a dreary blank-"Jesus was not there."

Then again hope revived as she heard the words

"The desert may revive

And brighten into bloom."

She could not rest till her husband came home in the evening, and she could open her heart to him. The very same evening she went to the nearest book shop, and bought a Bible; clasping it to her heart like an old friend, she hastened home full of joy. When she came in she heartily embraced her child, as if thanking him for the treasure which he had been the means of restoring to her. From that day she loved him more than ever.

Oh! how she praised the Lord who blesses little children, and blesses the parents through them! That gracious Saviour who wishes by us to draw the little ones to himself, and by them to draw us to him.

a penny," said young Tom to Arthur, whom they met on their way to Sundayschool.

"The plates are going to be held at church to-day, and mother thought we'd like to give a something," said little Jim.

"But we are not to put anything in unless we like," said Robert. "Father said he'd give us the pennies for us to do as we like with them; it was no use a giving unless it was free like. I have got mine put into two halfpennies -it seems more somehow."

"Mine is in halfpennies, too," said Tom; "and so is Jim's. I don't know but what I

may put one in; I shall see what others do. I don't see as one penny can do much good."

"Oh, but Tom, if all the boys give a penny, it would buy a good bit of bread, wouldn't it ?" said little Jim. "But I like having it in halfpennies; there will be one for morning and one for afternoon."

"Well," said Robert, "I want some string for my kite, and so do you, Jim; and so I mean to put in one halfpenny, and keep the other for the string; won't you, Jim?"

"I don't know,'
" said Jim; 66

we may not be able to send them a penny to get bread if we don't do it now. I can't say the words, but don't you mind what master said the other day about giving up something we liked if we wanted to help any one?"

They had now got to the school-door, and had no more time to talk till they walked to church. Little Jim walked along with Arthur.

"I wish I had a penny to give," said Arthur. "Wouldn't your mother give you one?" asked little Jim.

"She has not got one," said Arthur; "we haven't had sugar these two days to save a penny for mother to put in, so there was no chance for me."

"Arthur," said little Jim, "if you like you shall have one of my halfpennies to put in; it will be all the same to them if you put it in or I do."

"I never did put anything in," said Arthur ; "I should like it so much, only it will not be real giving after all; and then you want it for the afternoon."

"Oh, I don't mind that," said little Jim; "so you just take it now, and we'll come out and put 'em in together."

"Well, boys, and how about the pennies?" said the father when they got home.

"Robert and me each put a halfpenny in the plate," said Tom, "and kept the other for something we wanted."

"And little Jim, what has he done?" said the father.

"I gave 'em both," said the ooy, colouring. "Did ye give them both in the morning, Jim?" said his mother; "for I came out behind you, and you did not put anything in this afternoon."

Little Jim turned very red, and began stammering.

"Speak out, boy," said his father; "don't be afraid. Speak the truth; I'll not be vexed if you did not give both, though it would have been like a kind little boy if you gave it all." "Father," said the boy, "Arthur did so want to put something in, and so I let him put one halfpenny in. It wasn't wrong, was it?"

"No, my boy," said the father, patting him on the head; "it was kind of you to do so. I know you would have liked to have given them both yourself. Poor Arthur has no father to give him pennies, so it was not his fault he had not one to give himself; but if you will remind me, some day I will give you a penny for Arthur to do as he likes with. Never forget, my boys, what the Bible says: Do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest.""

THE BIBLE ILLUSTRATED. "The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life."-Romans vi. 23.

MR. JAY, in one of his country rambles, went into a barn, where he found a thresher at his work. "My friend," said Mr. Jay, addressing him in the words of Solomon," in all labour there is profit." Leaning upon his flail, and with much energy the thresher replied, "No, sir: that is the truth, but there is one excep‐ tion to it; I have long laboured in the service of sin, but I got no profit by my labour." "Then you know somewhat of the apostle's meaning when he asked, 'What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed?'” "Thank God," said he, "I do; and also know that now, being freed from sin, and having become a servant unto righteousness, I have my fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life."

"What is a man profited, if he shall gain the

whole world, and lose his own soul?"-Matthew xvi. 26.

MR. JEREMIAH BURROUGHS, a pious minister, mentions the case of a rich man who, when he lay on his sick-bed, called for his bags of money; and having laid a bag of gold to his heart, after a little while he bade them take it away, saying,

"It will not do! it will not do!"

"Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up."-James iv. 10.

"Wшcп is the most delightful emotion?” said an instructor of the deaf and dumb to his pupils, after teaching them the names of our various feelings. The pupils turned to their slates, to write an answer; and one with a smiling countenance wrote Joy. Another, with a look of thoughtfulness, put down Hope. A third, with beaming countenance,

wrote Gratitude. A fourth wrote

Love. At length one turned back with a countenance full of peace, and yet a tearful eye, and the teacher was surprised to find on her slate, "Repentance is the most delightful emotion." He asked, "Why?" "Oh," said she, in the expressive language of looks and signs, "it is so delightful to be humbled before God!"

"Have faith in God."-Mark xi. 22.

WHEN Martha Lamb was about eight years of age, her father was taken very dangerously ill. Seeing her mother in tears, she innocently asked, "Mother, why do you cry?" "Because your father is dying," was the reply; " and the doctor can do no more for him." "Do no more for him!" she exclaimed; "but I can do something for him!" and immediately left the room. Her mother was struck by her words, and followed her unobserved, when she saw her little daughter kneel down, and heard her pray that God would be pleased to restore her dying father.

"Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire ?"Zechariah iii. 2.

A PLAIN countryman, whose tion, was once stopped by one of carly life had been spent in dissipahis former companions, and asked to go to the ale-house. But the good man steadfastly resisted all his arguments, saying, “I am a brand plucked out of the fire." His old companion not understanding this, he explained it thus:—“ Look ye,” said he, "there is a great difference between a brand and a green stick. If a spark flies upon a brand that has been partly burnt, it will soon catch fire again; but it is not so with a green stick. I tell you, I am that brand plucked out of the

fire, and I dare not venture into the way of temptation, for fear of being set on fire again."

"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."-Romans xii. 21.

MANY years since, there lived in one of the central counties of New Jersey, a poor mechanic, eminent for his pious zeal and consistency. He was very much tried by the conduct of a neighbour, who was in the habit of cutting his wood for the week on the Lord's-day, and the sound of whose axe continually disturbed the old Christian's meditations. Father H., as he was called, often remonstrated earnestly and kindly with his neighbour, but without any effect. At length he adopted a different course. One Saturday afternoon his neighbour found the old man very busy at his wood-pile, and inquired, in astonishment, what he was doing.

แ

Why," replied Father H., "you will persist in cutting your wood on God's holy day, and it grieves me

A SAD FACE.

S the train drew up at the station, I naturally looked out of the carriage in which I was seated. There were many people on the platform; some getting out, some getting in, some waiting. My eye rested on one of the last. She was Her dress was old a poor woman. and thin; her manner shy and retiring; but her face—it was her face that struck me. Such a sad face! Sad, worn, suffering, patient; as if long used to sadness. It seemed to tell its own tale of sorrow. No one could look at that face without reading there a life

of woe.

The train moved on, and there stood the poor woman still, with her sad face, holding her little girl by the hand. My thoughts continued to dwell on her as the train whirled away. Who was she? And why had she come there? Had she expected to meet some one by the train, and been disappointed? Did she think her husband would be there? Ah, her husband! I may have been quite wrong; but I could not help thinking that her husband had something to do with that sad face. She was still young; her child had hardly seen more than six or seven years. Not much longer ago than that perhaps she was a bright and blooming bride, entering upon married life full of hope and gladness, loving and loved. Had he played her false? Was he a drinking man? A bad, cruel man? Had he forgotten the vows he made her when he took her to wife? Had he given her cause to rue the day when that title became hers? Something there was that weighed heavy upon her; something was a

constant and grievous sorrow. It may have been this. So I thought as the train went on.

Then I could not help thinking further, whether that sad woman knew where to find comfort. Had any one taught her the love of God? Had she been drawn to her Saviour? Did she know the sweetness of prayer? Was the Bible precious to her? Was that sad heart, with all its sadness, yet cheered by the promises? What ever her trouble was, GOD knew it; nay, God had sent it, or, at least, had let it come. Had it been blest to her? Had it softened her heart, and led her to God? "Oh, that it may be so! I could not help saying within myself, "O God, bless that poor sorrowful woman, and send her thy comfort and thy grace!"

Oh, sad heart, showing thyself perhaps in so sad a face that all must notice it, there is comfort for thee, if thou wilt seek it. God knows thy sorrows; yet tell him of them. Tell him of them, even if they come from thine own fault. Tell him all; be not afraid. Tell him all; be not afraid. He is full of compassion for poor sin

niture, no food. Everything bore the appearance of utter poverty. But, glancing round, he saw in a neglected corner a copy of the Bible. When he went away, he said to the poor inmates, "There is a treasure in this house that would make you all rich."

After he had gone, the people began to search the house for what they thought must be a jewel or a pot of gold; and finding nothing, they went to take up the very floor, in hopes of discovering the hidden store of wealth, all in vain.

Some days after, the mother lifted up the old Bible, and found written on the fly-leaf of it, "Thy testimonies are better to me than thousands of gold and silver." "Ah!" she thought, "can this be the treasure the stranger spoke of?" So she told her thought to the rest; they began to read the Bible; they read of the love of God in sending his Son to die for sinners; became changed in character, and a blessing came in to stay with them, The stranger returned to find poverty gone, contentment and peace in its place, and a hearty Christian welcome; while, with grateful joy, the family told him, "We found the treasure, and it has proved to us all that you said it would."

SATURDAY EVENING. THE hours of evening close: The lengthened shadows, drawn O'er scenes of earth, invite repose, And wait the Sabbath dawn.

So let its calm prevail

O'er forms of outward care:
Nor thought for many things assail
The still retreat of prayer.

Our guardian Shepherd near His watchful eye will keep; And, safe from violence or fear, Will fold his flock to sleep.

So may a holier light

Than carth's our spirits rouse, And call us, strengthened by his might, To pay the Lord our vows.

MRS. CONDER.

TERENCE MORAN.

CHAPTER II.

AT the moment that Terence discovered the captain's mistake, the sailor who was to take him ashore dropped into the boat, and taking an oar, called on him to use the other; but with a cry of surprise, almost of terror, Terence sprang to the ladder, exclaiming, "The captain! the captain! let me speak to the captain. I must see the captain."

"You can't see him now, young 'un," said the mate, who supposed he wanted to get more money; "be off at once, I advise you."

"It is life or death!" cried the boy, struggling hard to mount; "he'll never forgive you, I tell you, if you keep me from him." "What's the matter there?" cried the captain's deep voice; "let go that boat."

"Oh! captain dear, come here; listen, captain, I've something to tell you."

"Come up with you, then, quick! never satisfied-that's it isn't it all the Irish way?" Breathless, with staring eyes and open lips, Terence stood on the deck. "Whisper, captain," said the poor boy, who scarcely thought it right to let the seamen know their captain possessed such treasures; "didn't you say you'd give me five shillings?"

"Well, I think I did; so take care now you don't want to cheat, and pretend you got less; if you do--" "Look!" whispered Terence, opening his hand before the light, so as to show the gold pieces-"Look, captain dear, what you did. Wasn't it well I hadn't gone off?"

"Well for me, doubtless," said the captain, gazing on the boy's face. "And what did you mean to do when you came on board?"

"To give it back to you; sure, you'll give me the silver instead."

"Do you know the difference?"

"Och! then, captain dear, is it me that's kept house so long, and has been doing for myself since I was eight years old, not to know the difference between five gold sovereigns and five silver shillings? Sure, there's just a hundred shillings here, instead of five."

"Well," said the captain, thoughtfully, as he still gazed on his face, "I wish there were more people in Ireland like you."

"Oh, then, there's plenty of them far better, if you knew them."

"That's not true," said the sailor, as if

thinking to himself. "Five pounds-too much -can't afford it but to let any one suffer for honesty-bad, very bad. The boy might turn thief on another occasion, and the fault be mine. We all like our little good deeds to meet their reward. Here, boy, we mustn't keep palavering here-Time and tide wait for no man,' and that's a saying I don't think you have in your language. Here, I say; you have done a good turn by me, and I will do one by you; there, we'll halve this money-will that do?

There are two pounds ten-no-there are three pounds for you-and I am still two pounds richer than if you had been a rogue."

Not one word passed Terence Moran's lips; he seemed to have lost the use of his tongue. He stood clutching the gold in his hand-not that he loved it for itself, or felt anything like the miser's ecstasy over his hoard; he valued it as the means of getting a start in life. It

THE CAPTAIN AND HIS PUPIL

was only when the captain ordered him into the boat again that he became fully aware of his intention to give him the money. It is usually said that wealth brings care, and so Terence began to experience.

"Oh! captain jewel, who'll take care of all this gold for me?" he exclaimed. "Sure, if I go on that lone place at this hour of night, it's robbed, and murdered, and kilt I'll be; and the money taken from me after all."

"I believe that's the truest word you've spoken as yet of your countrymen," said the captain, who could not conquer his prejudice. "It would be a pity to send the boy ashore, wouldn't it, Jackson?" he added, turning to the mate; "and to wait for the boat coming back too. I say, youngster, will you take a trip to England with me? You can do more with your three pounds there than ever you will do in this land. You shall have a free passage."

Now, six months previously had the offer of a free passage to England been made to Terence Moran, he would have eagerly caught at the prospect it opened; for England, to the poor Irish in general, is only second best to America as a place of exile and of labour. "If I could learn a trade, sir, in England, I'd go; but, with the help of God, I mean to put myself to a trade, now that I've got the money to begin with."

"A good capital!" said the captain, laughing. "Well, my boy, you shall learn a trade if you wish to do so; I will undertake that. Be quick, now; yes, or no?"

"I'll go, please the Lord, I'll go!" cried Terence.

"Up with the anchor !" were the words that followed; and a few minutes afterwards Terence Moran was sailing away from his native land.

The captain ordered the hungry boy a good supper, such a one as he had not eaten since

idt glod Jo Hornoa Bad

his childish days; and then Terence was sent to one of the sailor's berths, and slept until late the next day.

The captain was not only a kind-hearted man, but, notwithstanding a rough exterior and hasty manner, a really religious one. "It is a mistake"-said he afterwards to the poor Irish youth-"it is a mistake to suppose that sailors cannot be religious; who ought to be more so than those who do their business in the great waters, who see the Lord's wonders in the deep, and hear his voice in the tempest?" He was a Christian, both by believing the doctrines, and in all things seeking to obey the precepts of Christianity. The captain spoke tenderly and kindly to him of his state as a

sinner, which Terence readily and feelingly ad mitted; and with much tenderness he told the boy of Jesus the Saviour, through whom pardon and eternal life are given to every penitent and believing sinner, and urged him to pray for the Holy Spirit to enlighten and soften his heart.

The captain had a small store of Bibles which he always took to sea with him, not knowing when he might have to regret not having one to present. He gave one of the Bibles to Terence, who gladly received it. Darkness gradually cleared away before the light of truth, as he read for himself the doctrines taught by Christ; and after a while he was enabled, by the teaching of the Holy Spirit, with firm confidence and grateful affection, to lay hold of eternal life by faith in Christ Jesus. In the next chapter we will take up his history from his return to his native place.