PREFACE; Few of those who are able "to discern the signs of the times " would dispute the assertion that the present age is one which might well be called an age of bold speculations. In science, in philosophy, in commerce, in politics, and even in higher regions of thought and action, there seems no limit to the speculative efforts of the men around us. And in the literary world we have some striking examples of this tendency. Every day sees some novel production, to meet the tastes and wants of one portion or another of the reading public. Magazines, for instance, of every imaginable size, price, and character, are poured into the market, and their sale "pushed " by schemes and expedients at which our forefathers would have been fairly dumbfounded. They deemed a good book or periodical a prize worth paying for; but their descendants have to be paid for taking in this journal or that miscellany by being presented with "a chance" in some gigantic lottery. No wonder that the rise and fall of such candidates for public favour is rapid indeed. Every year dozens of such literary squibs explode and go off in smoke, and rarely does it happen that everybody concerned escapes with unburnt fingers! Such thoughts as these will arise in the mind when sitting down to pen a few sentences in closing the twentieth volume of a miscellany, which has from the first been independent of such factitious helps to popularity. Right thankfully do we record another year of onward progress in the circulation, and we trust the usefulness, of the Bible Class Magazine. And right cordially do we acknowledge how much of this progress has been due, under the Divine blessing, to the ever-ready help of valued friends, and let it not be forgotten-to the exertions of an active circle of readers who have striven to make these pages more widely known. We cannot name all, even if we were permitted, but our heartiest thanks are due to the author of "Mother's Money," to Mrs. Dammast, and to Miss Isabella Fyvie, for the tales which they have provided for us from month to month; to the able and generous writer of the papers on "Butterfly Life," to "K. L. G.," for her biographical portraits of the great and good, to Ancient Simeon, for his lively letters from Continental localities, and to our worthy neighbour, Mr. Bucklersbury, for his monthly extracts from his young friend's note-book. We seek a yet wider sphere. Our aim is to be more useful still to the rising youth of our land. Temptations thicken around them—we seek to furnish them with pleasant occupation for their hours of leisure-those hours of peril to so many !—and to point them to that armour which only can protect them from "the fiery darts of the wicked." Aid us, ministers, parents, teachers; all who love and watch over young hearts and lives! and we on our part, God helping us, will seek to sustain you in your momentous work; "that our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace." LONDON, December, 1867. THE BIBLE CLASS MAGAZINE. MOTHER'S MONEY. A NEW TALE, BY THE AUTHOR OF "ATHELINE," for the following day. There are many happy English homes where that day is honoured. After worshipping with thankful hearts in His holy temple who came to preach "good will towards men," how can we do better than collect the family round the domestic hearth, and cultivate, with temperate and quiet pleasures of which old and young partake, that love and confidence which make so great a part of the happiness of this life, and aid so powerfully in preparing us for another? "William,” said Mrs. Miller, "you are the eldest. Watch baby carefully while I am away, and mind that Emmie and Annie and Tom do not go near the fire." Alas! Baby, though a baby, seemed to comprehend quite well the meaning of this speech, and expressed, by hastily crying, her determination not to allow her mother to go out. Little Tom, too, though wild with delight only a few moments before, at the talk of the Christmas beef and pudding, sud B 66 STORY OF A denly caught hold of "mother's gown," and put his finger in his mouth, a sign that he had made up his mind that she should not go. "Dear me," said the indulgent mother, "I shall not be able to go, baby. "Let me go, mother," said William, a boy of about twelve years of age. "I'll buy everything for you. I know how to deal; I'll buy the beef at Mr. Lambshead's, and the plums, and——” "Well, Willy," said Mrs. Miller, after a moment's pause, during which she began, with an air of contentment, to take off her bonnet, and fixed her eyes tenderly on the unlovely face of crying baby,"well, really, I think if I give you a list of the things you are to buy, and what you are to pay for them, and the change you are to brink back, you can't make a mistake." "I make a mistake?" said Willy, proudly. "I'll make no mistake, you'll see." Mrs. Miller, having quieted baby by taking her out of the cradle, which convinced her that her mother was not going out, so that she speedily fell asleep, dictated to Willy, who could write very neatly thanks to having been sent to school,-what he was to buy, what every article was to cost, and how [JANUARY, 1867. much change he was to bring back | thickness, and threatened to make out of half a sovereign. If William had been kept at home to help his mother, instead of being sent to school, he would, no doubt, from practice, have been far better able to make purchases than he was at present. But his parents wisely thought it best that he should early learn what is taught at school; the other knowledge, most useful in its way, might be learnt when needful. His good mother, with five children to attend to, contrived to earn a little by sewing and knitting after the little ones were gone to bed. Her husband was employed on the railway. She made it a point to save half a sovereign every year out of her own earnings to buy a good Christmas dinner, and any other matters that might be specially needed. This half-sovereign was now placed in Willy's trousers pocket. The careful mother felt each of his pockets to discover if there was a hole in it, but found none; and the young ambassador, full of self-importance, put on his greatcoat, tied a thick red comforter round his neck, and sallied forth into the cold evening that seemed to threaten snow, with an empty basket on his arm. Mrs. Miller had the greatest confidence in Willy's obedience and discretion; nevertheless, such a long time passed, that she had not only replaced baby in her cradle, but had undressed Annie and Tom, who, together with Emmie, were in bed and asleep, before he returned. More than this, she had looked out into the long lines of light that were all she could see in the streets, except the snow that fell in increasing them very unpleasant to walk in. Mrs. Miller began to reproach herself for having allowed William to go out by himself so late, and in doubtful weather. While she is tormenting herself in this way, after the fashion of many mothers, we will see what has kept Willy out so long. Boldly and manfully did he take his way to the well-known shops at which his mother had been accustomed to deal; but he did not quite follow the line pointed out by her, for he saw a large party of noisy, rude-looking boys and young men collected under a lamp some way before him; so he turned into another street which also led to the shops. He there made all the purchases, paid for everything out of the change he got for his halfsovereign, and put the remainder in his right trousers pocket. Pleasant thoughts of his mother's praises, and possibly of the Christmas pudding, and other delights, passed through his mind as he hurried towards home, feeling flakes of snow falling on his face, and seeing the street lamps growing fainter and fainter as the snow thickened. Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he found himself in the midst of the crowd of boys. They must have seen him, and awaited his return, in silence, in order to torment him, as is the custom with too many boys and very young men, when their unkindness is hidden, as they think, by numbers. They ran against him, pulled at his basket, shouted, dragged at his coat, pulled off his cap, pushed him up against the wall, and paid no |