college, that he was the most honest man that ever left its doors, for he took away with him a smaller amount of mental wealth than any one besides. There are many in the school of Christ who are learning very slowly, who are attentive to everything but the lessons, who do not have the first principles of the doctrine of Christ as a child leaving his alphabet, and go on unto perfection. In the text we have the feminine. form of the Greek word for " disciple," and this is the only passage in which it occurs. Women were allowed to join in the Jewish worship; but there was a line of demarcation; there was "the court of the women." And in heathen religions women were treated as inferiors-as serfs, or slaves. The position of women now, in India, and other countries, is one of degradation. Christianity has elevated woman to her right and honourable position. There were women at the prayer meeting in Jerusalem, when the disciples were waiting for the promise of the Father. Saul of Tarsus, in his persecuting fury, haled men and women to prison. In the Epistle to the Romans we have the names of several women who "laboured in the Lord." The hightst position in this country is filled by a woman; but great as is the honour of sitting on England's throne, it is a far greater honour to sit with Mary at the feet of Christ and to engage in active service for Him. In "Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, there is neither male nor female." There is no distinction of sex in the kingdom of truth and righteousness. Love is of no sex. Truth is of no sex. Through the ages there have been more women than men in the ranks of the disciples, for Christianity enters by the heart; and women have larger hearts than men. "Thou shalt love" is the demand of God. And the creation of this love is the object of the Gospel. Her religion The disciple in the text was "full of good works." was not a matter of speculation, not a mere theory to be studied, or a problem to be discussed. There are many who spend their time in looking for difficulties and objections. They stand outside the temple, and measure it; they think they discover a flaw here, and a defect there, and a deficiency yonder; the columns are too short, or the entablature is too large, or the doors are too narrow. It is easy to urge objections; they will also be easily removed, if men will but enter, and see the glories which the temple contains, and read the mysteries which have been hid for ages and for generations. Nor was her religion a matter of sentiment. There was feeling, there was emotion. But emotion that leads to nothing practical is most profitless and perilous. There may be sorrow felt over the distresses of the hero in a romance; but what is such sorrow worth? Emotions may be awakened in a religious service; and yet they may lead to no practical result. A tree may expend all its strength in leafage. The steam which is blown into the air has no power. And deep feelings and emotions that do not lead to resolution and action are worthless-they are positively injurious. (To be continued.) ONE frosty morning in January, two delicate-looking children were sitting before a blazing fire in a long low nursery, with oak rafters running across the ceiling. Between them lay a great shaggy dog. "You will take good care of Rover whilst I am away," said the boy, winding his fingers in Rover's shaggy hair, and leaning his head against him. "Yes, he shall go for a walk with me every day, and in the twilight I will talk to him about you," answered Alice; "you might send messages to him in your letters," she added. "Would you understand them, old fellow ?" asked Reginald, lifting up the dog's head, and looking into his eyes. The dog wistfully returned his master's gaze, and gave him his It won't be really bad when I get accustomed to it. Just at first it may be strange, but I shall be sure to like one, at any rate, out of the forty boys. It is going out into the world, and my father says it is well for a boy to learn his level early. On the whole, I am glad I am going; it is only the first bit of it that one is not sure about." II. Reginald advanced towards the fireplace at the lower end of the room, hoping that some one might speak to him, and rid him of the strange uncomfortable feeling that crept over him; but none of the boys spoke, though they regarded him critically, as if measuring the sort of being he was before committing themselves to any closer acquaintance. So he sat down on a bench, halfway down the schoolroom, tried to look unconscious, and half wished himself at home again. 66 Have any of you fellows got a knife? I want to cut this piece of string," said a tall boy, addressing the group generally. In a moment Reginald had taken out his new knife, and offered it to the speaker. 66 Ah," said Thompson, the tall boy, "a capital knife. Much obliged, will borrow it for the present "and after using it, he quietly put it into his pocket. Some of the boys laughed. One of them, however, murmured, in an under tone," What a great shame! Reginald's colour rose. He walked straight up to Thompson. "Will you please give me my knife again? Thompson looked surprised. "No, I shall please to do nothing of the kind. You offered it, and I accepted it. An offer's an offer." "I lent it to you to cut the string." "You did not say so." "I do not think it just of you to take my knife in that way," said Reginald, thoroughly aroused; "and if you do not return it at at once I shall speak to Dr. Field about it." It was a large room, with desks and benches on either side, and an aisle, as Reginald called it, up the middle. It had four large windows looking out on the play-"you're a sneak, are you?” ground, and a fireplace at each end, around which some dozen or two of boys were clustered. "Oh," said Thompson, coolly, The boys, who had been gathering around Reginald, admiring his spirit in confronting the tall boy, now. drew back, and the words "tell-tale!" But Barton was not prepared for "blab!" "sneak!" were distinctly his manner of carrying out the heard. And Reginald found him- decision. To his great surprise self standing alone, deserted by those who had drawn near in sympathy with him, for Thompson was the tyrant of the school. Presently, when the boys had returned to their places by the fire, and Reginald was apparently forgotten, a merry-looking boy, a year older than himself, sat down by him. "No," said he, "you must not say anything to Dr. Field. You must let your knife go, and learn wisdom for the future." Reginald looked up. "It's mean and unfair," he said. "That may be; but the boys would say it was meaner still to complain. One has to put up with things of this sort at school, and make the best of them." "What's your name?" asked Reginald, suddenly, for there was something about the boy that he liked, and he thought this might be the one who was to be his friend. "Barton. And yours?" Murray's enough, without the Reginald marched straight up to Thompson. "I shall not,” he said, "speak to Dr. Field about the knife. It's unfair and unjust of you to take it, and I sha'n't be friends with you as long as you keep it. But Barton says it would be telling tales if I made a complaint." Some of the younger boys stood quite aghast at Reginald's boldness; one or two even murmured, "Well done!" Thompson stared, half in astonishment, half in anger. "You're too fast, young sir; you'll have to be put down, I see," said he. But he did not give Reginald his knife again. III. School was indeed a new world to Reginald. He made friends, and found enemies; he worked hard, and played well; and on the whole, was tolerably popular. Thompson, however, still kept the knife, using it upon all occasions, which caused a thrill of indignation to go through Reginald's delicate frame. "If I can't get it one way, I will another," thought he; and he brooded over the knife until he magnified every word that Thompson said into a series of insults to himself, and Thompson, pleased with the power he possessed over the boy, exercised it on all occasions. So the spring went by, and summer came, and the days slipped away, and the holidays were close at hand. "If I were strong enough I would fight him for it!" said Reginald to Barton, one day when Thompson had been more than usually aggravating. The remark was repeated to Thompson who was standing by the side of the river that ran at the foot of the playground. At that moment Reginald drew through the playground into the near. "So you would like to fight me if you were big enough!" said he, with a sneer. "I should!" answered Reginald, warmly. "Ah, it's a bad state of feeling. If the knife causes such wicked thoughts, the best way is to get rid of it. So here it goes, and there is an end of it!" And drawing the knife from his pocket, he flung it into the river. It fell short of where he intended, and Reginald saw his beloved knife through the clear river, lying within what he supposed to be an easy reach. Without a moment's thought he jumped in after it, regardless of the cry that rose-"The water's deeper than it looks!" His hand had, as it by instinct, grasped the knife, but as he tried to struggle back through the swiftly running water, he got confused; for, as the boys had called out to him, it was a great deal deeper than it looked, and just there the ground shelved suddenly, and Reginald, taking a false step, lost his footing. There was a general outcry, which brought Dr. Field, and a visitor who had just arrived, to the spot. "Murray's in the river!" And they pointed to the spot where the poor boy had sunk. With such a cry as the boys long remembered, the visitor had plunged into the water, and had caught the boy, who had risen for the last time by the arm. And the next thing that the boys knew was that a white, dripping form was carried house. But Reginald did not die; he opened his eyes to find his father clasping his hand. At first he could remember nothing; then he looked around anxiously. "Is the knife safe? I went to pick up my knife." Then he closed his eyes, and remained for a long time silent, and when he spoke again it was in the wild ravings of delirium. The shock had been too much for the delicate boy. Fever came on, and it was weeks before he could be moved home. And then he was ordered to the South, and Italy was the chosen place in which Mr. and Mrs. Murray and their two children should sojourn until Reginald should have completely recovered his health. And this time Rover was to go with his young master. The day before Reginald left home a carriage drove up to the door, and Thompson stepped out of it. He and Reginald were alone for a quarter of an hour, and they parted friends. "I have my knife now, Thompson," said Reginald, "and so the quarrel is over." And Thompson returned to Dr. Field's a better and a wiser boy. He never bullied any one again. THE SPEZIA MISSION FOR ITALY AND THE LEVANT. MANY will rejoice to hear that in that land of darkness and superstition the work of God, carried on with so much zeal and energy by the Rev. E. Clarke, is being much blessed of God. The following illustrative incidents are taken from his report, just published. A HAPPY DEATH-BED SCENE IN SPEZIA. The wife of one of our Evangelists, herself a teacher in the school at Spezia, was laid aside by a long illness, which she bore with calm resignation to the Divine will. Her husband, desirous of giving to his only daughter an impressive lesson of the firm faith of his wife in the Lord Jesus, and of her certainty of possessing eternal life, said to his daughter one day, "You see your mother cannot recover, she must cease to be on earth; but she will live most happily for ever with the Lord." On hearing this the child wept most bitterly, and said, "But my mother, is she sure of being happy after death? "Yes, she is sure," was the reply. The child, for greater assurance, ran to the mother, again making the inquiry; and though naturally so timid, the mother, with a calm and solemn countenance, said, "Do not weep, because I am sure I shall be for ever with the Lord." Soon after the spirit had fled, "absent from the body, present with the Lord." A SPEZIA TRADESMAN CONVERTED. A very intelligent painter was one day addressed in this way by a Christian friend : "The Bible is the only absolute standard of appeal in morals and religion." This tradesman had prided himself on finding out some plan for the amelioration of the condition of the human race, and had shown his sincerity in what he had suffered for this idea. Having these words above quoted so emphatically addressed to him, he began the study of God's Word, and was convinced that the sentiment enunciated was just. From the time that conviction dawned on his mind, he began to be a changed man. Associating himself with the Evangelici, persecutors soon arose who sought to inflict all possible evil on him, and one result soon followed, viz. that nearly all his business left him. Unmoved by this, he said: They may tear me in pieces if they like in the market-place, but I will not yield up my convictions, for I feel Christ in me." He now occupies an important place in our day-school, and is a member of the Church. 66 Many more like the above might be selected; doubtless, they are but tokens of a richer blessing to come. More help is needed to extend the field of labour. Mr. Clarke says,-" With larger means we could extend our work with every prospect of success." Donations for the Spezia Mission will be thankfully received by John Sands, Esq., 50, Old Broad Street, City. |