After the sowing, you will remember, came the harrowing. This was to cover the seed and make it take firm root. You must not forget this important part of the work. It can be done in several ways. Learning and trying to practice the commands of God in His Word, helps the seed to have a deep root in your heart. So does continual effort; for, unless we persevere, good intentions will not end in good actions. If we do not harrow the field of the heart in this way, the seed will soon die.

Now, I told you that the farmer sometimes ploughed, and sowed, and harrowed, and yet his crops were not good. The same is true of us. We may sometimes try to plough our hearts, to sow good seeds, and to make their roots firm by harrowing; and yet be disappointed that we do not succeed. To be successful our seed must be watered with the grace of God's Holy Spirit. God has promised the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him; so we must pray that God will bless our sowing with the rain of His Holy Spirit. If we do this, we will be sure to have a good harvest when our lives are done. Then, at the end of the world, there will be the great ‘harvest home.' What an awful thing it would be to stand there with nothing but weeds to show as the fruit of our lives! Let every one of us begin now, if we have not begun already, to work with all our might, so that our harvest may be a good one, and then it will be a joyous time, as it ought to be.

Three things are necessary:

1, Caution. It is easier to sow bad seed than good; so we must not sow any which we have not tried. If our seed is worthless, our harvest will be worthless too. If our seed is good, so will our harvest be also. 'Whatsoever a man soweth,' says the Bible, 'that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Sprit reap life everlasting.' (Gal. vi. 7, 8.) Life everlasting! What a glorious harvest that is! Would you not like that to be your harvest?

2, Faith. The farmer sows his seed in faith that the rain will descend to make it

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grow. In the same manner we must sow our good seed, in humble trust that God will crown our efforts with an abundant harvest.

3, Patience. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruits of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.' (James v. 7.) So we must not expect to become good all at once. In the parable of the sower it was the seed that grew the fastest that was the first to wither away. In due season we shall reap if we faint not.' We must be content with little successes, and little successes will soon make big successes.

'First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:
Lord of harvest, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.'

In this prayer may we all join. Amen.

J. M'M.

LESSONS FROM AN OLD SCHOOL-BOOK. THE FURNACE.

UPON a glowing fire rested a crucible,

at the bottom of which lay a piece

of gold. More and more intense became the flame-hotter, and still more heated, grew the vessel-and then the precious metal melted, till it trickled like water.

"Unfortunate creature that I am, to have been cast into this place!" it cried. "No; not unfortunate,” replied the furnace.

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'Is it not my misfortune to be such a sufferer?" said the gold.

"Not your misfortune," answered the furnace.

""I shall certainly be consumed!" exclaimed the gold.

"No; not consumed," said the furnace. "Alas! you have no consideration for me, surely," observed the tried gold.

"I am truly concerned for your best welfare," replied the furnace.

Then why must I suffer this agony?" asked the glittering gold.

"It is to purge away your dross, that you may be purer, and therefore more valuable," answered the furnace.

"Oh! when will it be ended? said the gold, stirred at the bottom of the crucible.

"As soon as possible; but not a moment before the good purpose is accomplished," kindly remarked the furnace.

"How may it be known?" inquired the gold, which increased in brightness.

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Immediately that the watchful Refiner, who is sitting by, shall see His face reflected in you," replied the furnace, "at which instant the process will end, and you come forth the better and richer for the fire.”—(Bowden.)

'I think I know the meaning of that story,' said Willie, who had been listening attentively while grandpapa read it to him. 'Tell me what you think it means, Willie.'

'Good people are the gold, and the furnace is the trouble God sends to make them better. That is what our teacher told us when we were reading the verse: "THE FINING POT IS FOR SILVER, AND THE FURNACE FOR GOLD: BUT THE LORD TRIETH THE HEARTS.

'Can you tell me of any good people who were put into the furnace of affliction?'

'Shadrach, Mesach, and Abednego, were put into the fiery furnace, but the fire did not hurt them,' said little Robert.

'What kept the fire from hurting them?' 'Jesus was with them in the fire.'

'That was it. Jesus is always with His people in their time of trouble; and He keeps the fiery trial from hurting them, and by it makes them more like Himself. What good man in a time of sore affliction said, "When He hath tried me I shall come forth as gold?"'

6 That was Job.'

'Job was a very good man, and yet he was long in the furnace of affliction. His property was taken from him, his sons and daughters were killed, he was smitten with sore disease; Satan harassed him, his friends reproached him, and sometimes he thought God had forsaken him. But in the end God visited His tried servant, and gave him such a view of His wisdom and glory, as made him a humbler and a holier

man than he had ever been before. What was Job's own confession after the Lord had shewn him His glory? Read Job xlii. 5, 6.'

"I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

'Then God took Job out of the furnace, and honoured him greatly.'

'God gave him twice as much as he had before.'

'Job's history is written in the bible, to teach us patience and submission to God in time of trouble. Long after his time, the apostle James reminded the persecuted believers of the example of Job." (James v. 11.)

"Why is the precious gold put into the furnace?'

It is to separate the dross from it and make it pure."

'And God sends trouble on His own children, who are more precious to Him than gold, to turn them from sin and make them pure as He is pure. Listen to what God says to us, when He sends us any trial. Read Pro. iii. 11, 12.'

"My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction: for whom the Lord loveth He correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth."

'Can you remember any who suffered much trial in their youthful days?'

'Joseph's brethren sold him into Egypt.' 'Joseph was long in the furnace of affliction; but God was with him, and at length delivered him out of all his troubles.'

Saul persecuted David when he was young,' said Willie.

'David suffered much in his youth; and Jesus tells us that in the world we shall have tribulation; and Peter writes: Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings.'

The Rev. C. Simeon of Cambridge, in a journal of a tour through Scotland, writes:

'Went to see Lady Ross's grounds. Here, also, I saw blind men weaving. May I never forget the following fact. One of the blind men, on being interrogated with respect to his knowledge of spiritual things, answered, "I never saw till I was blind; nor did I ever know contentment when I had my eyesight, as I do now that I have lost it. I can truly affirm, though few know how to credit me, that I would on no account change my present situation and circumstances with any that I ever enjoyed before I was blind."

He had enjoyed eyesight till twenty-five, and had been blind now about three years. 'My soul,' Mr Simeon adds, 'was much affected and comforted with this declaration. Surely there is a reality in religion!' God often wonderfully supports His children while in the furnace.

'Is He a fire? He'll purge my dross,
But the true gold sustains no loss.
Like a refiner shall He sit,

And tread the refuse with His feet.'

STORIES OF THE HUGUENOTS. THE FAMILY OF DE ROCHEGUDE.

II.

JACQUES De Rochegude crossed the

Pays De Vand, till he came to the town of Morges.

Morges lay a busy little harbour on the beautiful lake of Geneva. It was only six miles from Lausanne, where so many Huguenots had their home; and it lay on the way thither. It was natural enough that the exile, Jacques De Rochegude, should turn his steps to this town. Perhaps he might hear again tidings of his captive brother, of the old home in Languedoc, which he never might see again.

Thus travel-soiled, he entered the busy yet quiet streets, and saw, beyond the quaint houses, the beautiful and friendly lake, with the little harbour full of ships which brought produce from France and Germany.

At length his eyes were arrested by a man on horseback approaching him along the street. Could his eyes deceive him?

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Did he not know the form? And as the rider came nearer, in that pallid and griefworn face, he knew the face of his brother. In but an instant the elder had flung himself from his saddle, and, in speechless joy, on the foreign street, the brothers embraced one another.

'By the grace of God we are come out, giving glory to Him.'

These were the first spoken words. But long afterwards Jacques De Rochegude wrote, remembering that glad strange hour:

What was our joy at that meeting? It cannot be described. To what St. Paul said of the sufferings of the present time, "that they are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed," may be added, "with the joys which they give in the present time, even in the midst of the greatest sufferings for Christ."

But sorrow still lay like a black cloud on the life of the Marquis De Rochegude. Of the fate of his wife and children he knew nothing; and to think of what their fate might be in those cruel and troubled times, must have been too dreadful, but for strong trust in God.

Very soon the Marquis was to be greatly comforted. In Vevey, another little town on the lake, his beloved wife was restored to him. Her story, as it has since been told, is even stranger than his.

Hiding among the lonely mountains, in her garb of a shepherdess, she was taken at length by the soldiers, who were searching everywhere. She was carried back to Nismes, and placed by force in a convent there. They could force her within the convent walls, but they could not force her to deny the faith she loved. And still she prayed in silence, and dropped quiet fervent words which would go to the hearts of the nuns; the abbess became afraid. She could not restrain her noble prisoner from exerting this unseen influence. What if through the very convent this Protestant heresy should creep!

One day when the bishop came to visit the convent at Nismes, the abbess told him what she feared.

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"Take away this lady,' she said, or she will make all the convent Huguenot.'

The abbess said so unkindly. She wished for Madame De Rochegude some harsher prison. She thought, perhaps, the bishop would order her to be sent to some lonely and cold cell-to one of those miserable dungeons where many Huguenot women were confined.

But it strangely happened that her words had an opposite effect on the bishop. It seemed utterly impossible by threats or allurements to move the faith of Madame De Rochegude. An order came to the convent very soon that the lady should be set at liberty. She was carried in a litter to Geneva, and thence joined her husband at Vevey.

The daughters of De Rochegude were confined in a convent some distance from Nismes. But it happened that near their convent a relative of their own lived, whom the abbess now and then allowed them to go to see.

'One day,' says the writer of their story, 'when the abbess was in the parlour much occupied, they came to ask permission to go and see their relative. The abbess happily forgot at the moment to send for the person to take charge of them. "Go," said she, "and take your attendant." They lost not a moment in equipping themselves, and fled to their faithful friend, who immediately set out with them in a return carriage to Nismes. On arriving there they went, without letting the muleteer know, to the house of a lady who had a great affection for their family, and who received them with joy.'

So their escape was made; but the abbess, alarmed at their absence, began to make inquiries in all directions as to where her charge had gone. That they had tak n the road to Nismes, the centre of the Protestant faith, was very soon discovered

The

frightened abbess, that very night, sent a message to the bishop. The message told him what had happened: the daughters of De Rochegude had flcd. Then the bishop sent through all the town with orders to search for the fugitives in every corner.

The hostess of the Du Rochegudes threw her house open with the others. But meanwhile the girls had been let down into a dry well in the garden. The well was closed up with four planks, and here they remained hidden while the searchers examined every place where they thought they could possibly be concealed.

While crouching in this dark hidingplace, the elder sister noticed a toad in the slimy bottom of the well.

'Ah, there is a bad omen,' she exclaimed, shrinking from it with superstitious fear.

Then there is the omen averted,' said the younger boldly and brightly, and putting her foot on the slimy thing, to re-assure her shrinking sister.

So they waited in hope and fear, while the messengers from the convent searched all the house in vain. They could find no trace of the fugitives, so they had to go back disappointed to those who had sent them.

When there was no more fear, the planks were lifted from the well, and the daughters of De Rochegude were drawn safely up from the darkness into the glad day.

Early the following morning they were dressed as peasant girls, and set off on horseback under care of a trusty guide. In this disguise they reached Geneva, and from Geneva, still unknown, they travelled to the little town of Vevey.

They entered their father's house. The mother was the first to recognise her youngest daughter.

'Here is our dear child!' she exclaimed in a transport of joy.

'I also am your child,' said the elder, throwing herself upon her mother's neck.

For many years the re-united family lived in the Swiss town. Their estates were taken from them; they were poor, but they lived happily.

'It comforts me to know,' De Rochegude would sometimes say, 'that the king has nothing to reproach me with except my love for my religion.'

The two sisters alone together survived all the rest of the family, and died in the same year, 1739.

H.W.H.W.

WHEN the early Christians at Rome

read in the gospels that their Lord and Redeemer, after His death on the cross, had been laid in a tomb hewn out in the rock, it occurred to them that this must be the proper method of burial for Christians. It was very natural for them to think so. In all things they wished to be like their Saviour. They desired to die as He died, commending their spirits into the Father's hands. By and by the longing grew up in their hearts to be

buried as He was buried. Accordingly a new method of interment was introduced among the Christians. A piece of ground was acquired beyond the walls of the city. It was opened down to the bed of rock that lay beneath. A grave was then hollowed out in the side of the rock, and within this rock-shelf the body was laid. These places of burial came to be known as the Catacombs. The method of burial in use up to this time was cremation-that is to say the bodies of the departed were