left which they had not broached in this ingenious fashion.

Of most of the Bible the meaning is very plain. Like sugar on the leaves of lime or the maple, the sweetness lies on the surface; but in this garden of heavenly wisdom there are what the naturalist would call labiate and personate flowers-flowers which it needs some effort to open, and some skill to explore. But "search the Scriptures." Every word has a meaning, every text has its use; and when you cannot find out the meaning yourself, ask your teacher or your parents to tell you. Nay, like our fuschia, there are some portions of the Bible which we could hardly understand at all, if other passages in the same Bible did not show us the meaning. An Ethiopian nobleman was reading in his carriage the fifty-third of Isaiah, but he could not understand it. Like a bee tantalised by the scent of honey, he hovered round it, conscious of something wonderfully attractive and delightful, but to him utterly inaccessible, till Philip joined him and with the auger of the gospel-story made an instant opening. Better than "wine and milk" there gushed out that living water, the hope of which had brought this stranger the long journey to Jerusalem, and in the depth of the desert his thirsty soul drank from this well of salvation, and began to live for ever. Rev. James Hamilton.

"FIRST BE RECONCILED TO THY BROTHER.” My worthy grandfather was a man of keen feelings, and of a warm heart, but easily excited to wrath. He had a brother whom he dearly loved. One day they fell into a dispute, and each returned to his home in anger. This happened on a Friday. As the evening

drew near, my good grandmother, who was another Martha, full of activity, began to make preparations for the Sabbath.

“Come, dear Joseph," she exclaimed, "the night is approaching; come and light the Sabbath lamp!" But he, full of sadness and anguish, continued walking up and down in the room. His good wife spoke again in anxiety-"See, the stars are already shining in the firmament of the Lord, and our Sabbath lamp is not yet lighted." Then my grandfather took his hat, and, evidently much troubled, hastened out of the house. But in a few moments he returned with tears of joy in his eyes. “Now, dear Rebecca,” he exclaimed, now I am ready." He repeated his prayer, and with gladness lighted the Sabbath lamp.

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Then he related the dispute which had occurred in the morning, adding, “I could not pray and light my lamp, before becoming reconciled with my brother Isaac." "But how did you manage to do it so soon?" "Oh!” he replied, "Isaac had been as much troubled as I was; he could not begin the Sabbath either without becoming reconciled with me. So we met in the street-he was coming to me, and I was going to him—and we ran to each other's arms and wept.”Dr Capadose.

A FACT FOR THE THOUGHTLESS.

A GENTLEMAN, some time ago, when passing through one of the wards in St Luke's Hospital, London, had his attention directed to a poor lunatic, who startled him with this question, "Sir, did you ever bless God for your reason?" The visitor, not a little astonished, honestly answered, "No." "Nor did I," said the afflicted man, "and God took it from me."

WILD FLOWERS.

How lovely are the sweet wild flowers
That o'er the earth are spread,
That twine about the emerald bowers,
And spring where'er we tread.
Down in the forest's mossy nooks
In lowliness they hide,

In rustic lanes, by sparkling brooks,
And on the green hill-side.

How brightly, like the richest gems,
They shine amidst the grass,
And gently bend their fragile stems,
As murmuring breezes pass.
From heated rooms and noisome lanes,
The city children come,

And each a fragrant bunch obtains,

To beautify his home.

Let every humble way-side flower,

That blossoms on the sod,
Teach us the wisdom, love, and power,

Of the Almighty God.

Each was created by his hand,

He gives them sweet perfume, And scatters them o'er all the land,

In loveliness to bloom.

And let us, when they fade away,

As e'en the fairest must,

Learn that we shall, like them, decay,

And mingle with the dust.

God grant that then our souls may soar
To his blest home above,

To be with him for evermore,
And sing our Saviour's love!
Wellingborough.

MARY.

CHAPTER IX.-THE EMPTY PLACE.

WHO can tell what were Dora's feelings while her little brother lay hovering between life and death! Often, after her own recovery, would she go away by herself, and weep bitterly over the thought that she had caused his illness by her own wicked disobedience. “Oh,” cried she, "if Herbert should die, I shall never be happy again as long as I live!"

Every day she watched for the doctor to ask how Herbert was to-day.

At length, to her unspeakable joy, the doctor told her he was decidedly better, and had passed the crisis so favourably that he had hopes of his recovery; adding, that all he needed now was strength.

"I am sure," said the doctor, "you deserve that

he should get better, and he ought to be a most grateful young gentleman to you for all your affectionate anxiety on his account."

Dora shrank from these praises, and retreating behind her mother, slipped away unobserved to her room, where she shed tears of joy and gratitude.

"All that Herbert wanted was strength," said the doctor, and so he said day after day, but still the strength did not come; indeed, he evidently grew weaker.

Mamma, how is it that Herbert is so long in getting well?" asked Dora. "You know, when I had the fever, I got well almost directly after I came to the worst, the crisis, didn't the doctor call it? and it's more than a fortnight since he said that Herbert had got over the worst."

Mrs Leigh's eyes filled with tears, as she looked fondly upon the sleeping child, now wasted almost to a shadow. "I don't know, dear," she replied, "he is getting weaker every day. I am afraid he is sinking."

"Mamma!" gaspedDora, in a frightened whisper, as the truth flashed upon her mind that, after all, her little brother was in danger!

Just then uncle William came in, bringing the doctor, who, after feeling Herbert's pulse, looked more grave than Dora had ever seen him.

"While there's life there's hope," said he; "it is wonderful how much children will come through."

The doctor said the very same words that Mr Clayton had used, but with what a different meaning.

The weary watchings over the sick child only lasted a few days longer; the little one grew weaker, till he laid his head in his mother's bosom and died.

Dora had never seen death before, and stood awe