the place, adding, “He will give you a book, which you must read for my sake." This book was a New Testament. The donor had well nigh forgotten the incident. East year, one of his nephews, a young man, not of very brilliant intellect, but full of devotedness and piety, became Scripture reader, and desired to go to the Crimea, to speak to the soldiers of the Saviour. This he did. visiting the hospitals especially. At that time typhus fever was raging there he took it, and died.

When his family heard of their loss, they were very much grieved, for they thought, "Poor Heinrich has had no comfort or consolation perhaps in his dying hour;" but they had afterwards a letter from a soldier, who, with a Christian friend of his, had not left the young man through all his sufferings, but had tended him affectionately, reading and praying with him continually. At the end of the letter the writer said, "I am the man to whom M. Adolphe Monod spake, four years ago, in such a place, giving me an order for a copy of the Word of God."

"Cast thy bread upon the waters, and thou shalt find it after many days."— Olive Leaf.

WHAT A SIXPENCE MAY BUY.

GEORGIE had a long Sunday school lesson to learn, but he tried hard, and recited it without a single mistake. So his father gave him a silver sixpence. A very happy boy was he as he ran down the lane to the toy-shop, there to buy the pretty top he had longed to possess for many weeks.

He had not gone far, when he saw a boy with a large basket of oranges on his arm, standing at the door of a small house. Georgie stopped to look; he did not mean to buy any, for he thought a red top better than any orange that ever grew. A little cripple sat in the door of the house, looking longingly on the golden fruit. "() dear, I wish I had three cents to buy one," he said, "they look so nice." But he had no money, and the orange-seller walked on. Georgie walked slowly after him. "I will buy that lame child an orange,” he said, to himself. "No, I won't; for if I do I can't get that top. O dear, I wish I had nine cents, then I would get him one; he can't play as I can." Thus this little boy kept on thinking to himself, and finally he started off upon a run after the boy with the oranges. "Stop, stop!' called Georgie; "I want to buy two oranges;" and held out his sixpence. The boy gave him the fruit, took the money, and went on. Georgie hurried

back to where the lame boy sat with his head on his hands. The little boy put the coveted oranges in his lap, saying, "Here they are, don't cry;" and ran home before the cripple had time to thank him.

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"Where is your top, Georgie ?" asked his mother. The boy told how he had spent his money. "God bless you, my son," she said, laying her hand on his curly head; are we not told. He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord ?"-Child's Paper (American.)

MAKING FRIENDS OF ANGELS.

THE friends of Christ have no cause to be afraid of angels. We are told, that when Mary Magdalene and her companion saw an angel sitting in the sepulchre, "they were affrighted." But they were at once reassured by his words: "Be not affrighted: ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified."

The lesson, at first sight, may seem of little importance. We see no visions of angels in the present day. We do not expect to see them. But the lesson is one which we may find useful at some future time. The day is drawing near when the Lord Jesus shall come again to judge the world, with all the angels round Him. The angels in that day shall gather together His elect from the four winds. The angels shall gather the tares into bundles to burn them. The angels shall gather the wheat of God into His barn. Those whom the angels take they shall carry to glory, honour, and immortality. Those whom they leave behind shall be left to shame and everlasting contempt.

Let us strive so to live, that when we die we may be carried by angels into Abraham's bosom. Let us endeavour to be known of angels as those who seek Jesus and love Him in this world, and so are heirs of salvation. Let us give diligence to make our repentance sure, and so to cause joy in the presence of the angels of God. Then, whether we wake or sleep, when the archangel's voice is heard, we shall have no cause to be afraid. We shall rise from our grave, and see in the angels our friends and fellow-servants, in whose company we shall spend a blessed eternity.—Rev. J. C. Ryle.

THE TEACHER'S DREAM.

A SUPERINTENDENT returned from his work one Sabbath evening, tired and discouraged. The children had been very noisy and troublesome. One teacher had been absent, no one knew why; another left his class uncared for, because he wished to spend a Sabbath in the country; and a third had intimated his intention to resign, because he found the school hour was so close to his dinner-time that he was disagreeably hurried after his meal. The subject of lesson that day had been "The plague sent on Israel for David's sin;" and the superintendent had carefully prepared and delivered an address at the close of the exercises, on the words, "Neither will I offer unto the Lord my God of that which cost me nothing." With his mind occupied by these occurrences, and haunted by the thoughts suggested by the lesson, our superintendent threw himself on the sofa, and fell asleep. But his sleep was restless, and he dreamt.

In his dream he thought his fellow-teachers and himself were gathered together in an upper room, on the first day of the week, as the disciples were long ago-and suddenly, as then, our Lord Jesus Christ entered into the midst of the company, and blessed them. A calm, serene light filled the room, yet there was no symptom of fear on any countenance. By some strange, mysterious arrangement, Christ seemed to be present, and to address only one of the teachers at once. He thought he saw Christ standing before that teacher who had been absent that evening on his own pleasure: the Saviour's hand, marked with the nail, seemed extended to hold up the bloody cross on which He had hung and died, and a still, gentle voice asked the question, "I gave up my life for thee-wilt thou give up thy pleasure for me?" Oh. it sounded like blasphemy when the teacher said, "I will not! the cost is too great."

A shade first dimmed and then hid this scene from the dreamer's eye; and when it cleared away, he saw the Lord standing behind an altar, addressing another of their com pany, one who, though regularly in her place every Sabbath evening, never seemed to benefit her class. She was asked for Christ's sake to give thought and love to these little ones. She advanced to the altar, but instead of laying mind and heart on it, she laid only the shred of time the school required each Sabbath evening! She offered her Lord what cost her nothing! She had nothing to do on Sabbath evening at home, and she found it dull to stay in the house.

Again, at that altar another teacher stood: he had left the school some time before, in consequence of being jeered and laughed at by his friends at home for being "so good," and in mockery they used to call him "Teacher." Solemnly the words were directed to him-"By the buffeting and spitting, by the scourging and the shame, by my crown of thorns and my cross of anguish, Wilt thou feed my lambs?" Alas! he turned from the altar, and refused to make such a sacrifice!

Once more the dream brought up another friend, a teacher who had died twelve months before. His figure was seen kneeling before the altar; his eyes filled with tears, and raised upwards towards his gracious Lord, as he offered his whole intellect for Christ's service in the Sabbath school. The offering was accepted with a benignant smile. Then the dreamer remembered how, while that teacher had few advantages of education-had twelve or fourteen hours of daily work-he had yet found time most carefully to study and write out all his lessons for the classes. The same figure bent again before that altar with deeper humility than before, and laid his earnest prayers, the outpourings of his heart for his scholars, at his Master's feet. Most graciously were they received. And it flashed through the dreamer's thoughts how that dear friend, when his health threatened to give way, used to be found on his knees, long after midnight, crying to God on behalf of the souls for which he watched, and when urged by a friend, who found him so engaged, to spare himself, replied, "Oh, let me pray-let me pray!"

Suddenly the atmosphere round the altar brightened, and that Christian teacher's figure was seen again, his eye brighter than ever; his smile reflected faintly that of his Lord, but his bodily frame was worn and wan. He approached the altar, and folding his arms, he bent his head, and exclaiming, "My Lord and my God," gently laid his wasted frame on the altar, and breathed his last! It was done, and the whole scene vanished into dazzling brightness. Then the superintendent remembered how that devoted labourer caught fever whilst visiting a poor sick scholar in one of the wretched hovels of the city, and how, standing at his bedside, he had seen him fall asleep in Jesus.

The dream passed away, but two thoughts remained— "How many of us serve Christ with what costs us nothing?" "How few of us dare present our work in the Sabbath school as an offering to our Lord Jesus?"

Surely these questions deserve our consideration. Let those teachers who profess to be Christians either take up the service, whatever it is, which they give to the cause of Christ in the Sabbath school, and, looking to the cross of Christ that they may remember what He gave for them, let them offer it to their Lord; or, if they find they dare not do so, let them inquire why it is that conscience interposes. Will it not be found that the reason is, they dare not offer to their Lord that which "costs them nothing"? -Scottish Sabbath School Teachers' Magazine.

THE TWO GARDENERS.

Two gardeners, who were neighbours, had their crops of early peas killed by frost; one of them came to condole with the other on this misfortune. "Ah!" cried he, "how unfortunate we have been, neighbour; do you know I have done nothing but fret ever since? But you seem to have a fine healthy crop coming up already! what are these?" "These!" cried the other gardener; "why, these are what I sowed immediately after my loss."

"What! coming up already?" cried the fretter. "Yes; while you were fretting, I was working." "What! don't you fret when you have a loss?"

"Yes; but I always put it off until after I have repaired the mischief."

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Why, then you have no need to fret at all."

"True," replied the industrious gardener; "and that's the very reason."

THE LEAST CREATURES.

WHAT a hum of satisfaction in God's creatures! How is it the smallest do seem the happiest? Compensation for their weaknesses and their fears,-compensation for the shortness of their existence. Their spirits mount upon the sunbeam above the eagle; and they have more enjoyment in their one summer than the elephant in his century.-W. S. Landor.

END OF VOL. VI.