II. "Heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ."-Rom. viii. 17. 12. "Fervent in spirit; serving the Lord."--Rom. xii. 11. 13. "Rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation."-Rom. xii. 12. 66 14. Continuing instant in prayer.”—Rom. xii. 12. 15. "The temple of God."-1 Cor. iii. 16. 16. "Glorify God in your body, and in your spirit."-1 Cor. vi. 20. 17. "We walk by faith, not by sight."- -2 Cor. v. 7. IS. "The love of Christ constraineth us."-2 Cor. v. 14. -Gai. v. 24. 19. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature."-2 Cor. v. 17. 20. "Let us also walk in the Spirit."-Gal. v. 25. 21. "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh." "Made nigh by the blood of Christ."-Ephes. ii. 13. 23. Fellow-citizens with the saints."-Ephes. ii. 19. 24. "Light in the Lord."-Ephes. v. 8. 22. 66 25. "Fruitful in every good work."-Col. i. 10. 26. "" Increasing in the knowledge of God."-Col. i. 10. 27. "Have put on the new man."-Col. iii. 10. 28. "We should live soberly, righteously, and godly."-Titus ii. 12. "A chosen generation, a royal priesthood, ... a peculiar people." -1 Peter ii. 9. 29. 30. 31. Be ye holy in all manner of conversation."- -1 Peter i. 15. "The Lord knoweth them that are His."-2 Tim. ii. 19. Jesus! grant from henceforth That Christians we may be, In heart and soul united, And followers, Lord, of Thee. May we be lamps e'er burning, Amidst the shades of night. May we be faithful servants, May we be in our conduct, And look to Him alone, The All-atoning One! Only a Servant. Tisn't the cap I dislike; but you see it's a sort of badge, and if I am only a servant, I don't care to show it in my dress," said Lucy, the young parlour maid, as she was trimming up a new head-dress, and trying to make it look as little servant-like as possible. "Don't say a badge, as if it was something to be ashamed of," said the housemaid, who looked like one of the good old servants that people say are rare in these days. “If there's one thing I'm more proud of than another, it's being a servant." “Well, I'm sure!" said Lucy, too much astonished to say more. The housemaid, whose name was Susan, continued: “I don't mean to say that servants haven't got troubles of their own, like other people; but when they think it beneath them to be servants, all I say is, they'll soon think it beneath them to be Christians too." Susan stopped, and Lucy said she hoped she was as good a Christian as other people; but she didn't see what that had to do with it, and she would like very much to be her own mistress. "That's natural, I suppose," said Susan; "though, for the matter of that, I don't know any woman who is her own mistress, unless it's some lone old maid or poor widow. Most of us are 'in subjection,' as St. Peter says-wives to their husbands, children to their parents-and it seems God's will that it should be so, therefore no doubt it is best for us. But when you talk as if there was shame in being a servant, you forget that our Lord Himself came 'not to be ministered unto, but to minister,' that is, to serve. 'He took upon Him the form of a servant,' as St. Paul tells us ; and are you ashamed of being one ?" "I forgot that," said Lucy, in a changed voice; “I quite forgot that." "Yes," said Susan, kindly, "we do too often forget it. But I'm glad you spoke out what was in your mind. It has set me thinking of a dear old mistress I once had; and on her dying bed she said to me, 'Susan, I thank God daily for having given me a good servant.' Now I hope I'm not telling you this from any wish to praise myself; but just to show you what a blessing a good servant can be. My mistress used to say there was nobody could quite supply my place to her, though she had as good children as ever lived. I never went a day's holiday but she said she missed me. 'You see, Susan,' she used to say, 'you're so strong and willing, and I don't mind what I ask you to do for me, it always seems a pleasure to you to do it.' And so indeed it was. It was my duty to serve her well, and love made my duty very sweet." There was a long silence, for, as Susan stitched away at her gown (it was a real gown-no attempt at a lady's fashionable dress), her thoughts wandered back to a sick-room, and a gentle mistress with whom she had passed many years of her early life. 66 Perhaps it's because I don't love, and can't pretend to love my mistress, that I find no sweetness in service," said Lucy. "Well, there's no denying that some mistresses are more loyable than others," replied Susan; "but you know we are told to love everybody, even our enemies; so there must be a way of doing it if we could only find out how, and love is a wonderful sweetener. But there's mistress ringing for the tea to be taken away;" and as she spoke a sharp, loud ring was heard resounding through the kitchen. "That's missis's ring, by the temper of it," said Lucy. "Master's is a different ring altogether." While this conversation had been going on in the kitchen, Lucy's mistress, upstairs, had been talking over her plans for the morrow. I shall take baby and nurse to Clapham to-morrow, Tom; for I find Agnes will be there, and she wants to see baby." "What will become of the other chicks ?" asked her husband. "I'm sure that giddy under-nurse is not fit to be trusted with them." "Oh, I shall leave Lucy to walk out with them." "I thought you had promised Lucy a holiday." "So I did; but it can't make much difference to her if she goes the next day. I'm not going to think of her convenience before my own; she's only a servant." Lucy overheard the last three words, "only a servant;" and though she had used them herself a few minutes before, they did not please her. The next morning she heard that her holiday was to be put off, and the disappointment was severe; for she had hoped to meet a sister at home who could very seldom be spared from service. She was vexed at the want of consideration shown to her, and would have given notice then and there; but love for Susan made her loth to leave, and love for her mother made her try to bear the vexations of her present situation. Truly, love is a wonderful sweetener, as Susan had said. How many blessings are poured on the heads of the inconsiderate and selfish for the sake of the gentle and loving! On the following day the mistress went, as she had arranged, to Clapham. She had not left the house long before a scream of terror was heard from the nursery. Lucy flew upstairs, and there found poor little Tommy in a blaze. His pinafore had caught fire, and in another moment he must have been seriously burnt. Happily, however, Lucy had presence of mind. Seizing a pair of scissors, she cut off the flaming garment and threw it into the grate. In doing this, however, her own cotton dress caught fire, but, crumpling it up in her hands, she quickly extinguished it. The child was almost unhurt, being protected by his woollen suit; but the fright and the pain of a slight burn on his arm made him scream fearfully, and it was some time before he was calm enough to tell how it happened. Then it appeared that the under-nurse had left him, taking with her his younger sister. Tommy, wanting something off the mantelpiece, had climbed on a chair to get it, and in coming down his pinafore had caught fire. Most happy was it for him that Lucy was within hearing! The gratitude of her mistress, when she came home and heard what had happened, knew no bounds, for she loved her children tenderly. Lucy, on her part, loved the child better than ever for having been the happy means of saving its life; and before long she learned to love its mother too. She took the best means of doing so, for she prayed for her daily, and tried to serve her faithfully. Her mistress by degrees learnt the value of a good servant, and discovered that true happiness, in every station, is found in watching for opportunities to serve others; thus following our Master, who by His own life has consecrated service, and made it a blessed and joyful thing. Surely, to be "only a servant" is a badge of honour. My First Experience. BY A SCRIPTURE-READER. J. B. JETTY DEBTS." How well I remember those words, written in a bold hand, on the cover of an old account-book belonging to the dark, dusty little office in which I had a desk as a kind of junior clerk, being then a lad about sixteen years old. Among other duties, I was expected, at frequent intervals, to give the aforesaid book a thorough examination, and to get the small accounts (which are so troublesome to tradesmen) cleared off. One branch of the business in which I was engaged being that of a repairing ironmonger, it often happened that these "petty debts" were for repairs. It is of such a bill that I would now write. It was a bright winter morning, and I started early, to |