for the same Master. Certainly we perceive one to be more boasting than the other, more vauntful, dazzling, gorgeous than the other; actuated by a different motive, bowing at a different shrine. While the angelic form so well known to suffering humanity, whom the enkindlings of Divine love stimulate to such unceasing endeavours to encircle both rich and poor, high and low, with the same golden chain of Christianity, whose arduous labours reflect such a calm and peaceful radiance on all that it touches, and whose benign, selfsacrificing nature sheds such a heavenly lustre on so many dark souls, sees nothing but a guilty, perishing world, and leaves no means unattempted by which may be diffused through all, as it were, one soul, one spirit, one life.

This is the silent worker that performs the noblest deed, this charity of feeling that so often displays itself in the unspoken actions of life, that glides so softly into the sick room, tends the sufferer and soothes his pain, speaking words of consolation and hope, then departing in search of other patients without the least show of ostentation. It is this worker in silence, whose left hand knoweth not what the right hand doeth; this ministering angel that is too modest to meet the vulgar gaze of the outer world, whose tread is so soft that we can scarcely discern its foot-prints in the sand, and we only know of its having been amongst us by the good which invariably follows its visit. When it sees fit to reprove, so much love and gentleness are displayed that while the evil-doer is sure to be convinced, he is never displeased. It is this pure fountain of love that oils the rusty hinges of crime's huge portal, and does so much to reclaim the fallen and refractory, when bolts and bars have failed to make an impression. We enter the house of the bereaved thinking to be the first to condole, and are astonished to find that this silent worker has been before us; we wonder how it could have known the circumstance, but are informed by the bereaved that they and the silent worker are old acquaintances; and then we retire, disgusted and out of patience with ourselves for having been anticipated in an act, which we had calculated would have raised us so high in public estimation.

All honour to genuine charity, for of the three great pillars of a Christian reliance, Faith, Hope, and Charity, the greatest of these is charity. G. WAKEFIELD.

Health Better than Wealth.

HEALTH BETTER THAN WEALTH.

231

LITTLE MARTIN was a poor boy who had no father or mother. He earned his bread by going on errands. One day, on his way home, he sat down to rest and to eat his piece of dry bread near the door of an inn. As he sat there a fine carriage drove up, and the master of the inn came out to serve two gentlemen who were in it. One of them was very young-not much older than Martin-and Martin thought to himself that he should like to be in his place. When he looked at his own crust of bread and his worn clothes, and then at the fine things, he could not help saying aloud

'Oh, dear! I wish I had that gentleman's grand coach. I wish I could change places with him,'

The other gentleman, who was the boy's tutor, heard this and told it to his pupil, who made signs to Martin to come to him.

'So, little boy,' said he, 'you would like to change places with me would you?'

'I beg pardon, sir,' said Martin, 'I did not mean any harm by what I said.'

'I am not angry,' said the young gentleman; 'I only wish to know if you are willing to change places with me?'

'Oh, now you are joking,' said Martin; 'no one would wish to change places with me, and walk so many miles each day, and have nothing to eat but a dry crust.'

'Well,' said the young man, 'I will give you all I have if you will give me all that you have and that I have not.'

Martin did not know what to say, but the tutor told him to speak freely.

'Oh, yes,' said Martin, then: 'I will change places with you.'

But when the young gentleman stepped out Martin saw he was very lame. His legs were bent so that he had to walk with crutches. His face was pale and thin, too, like that of one who was often ill. Martin then began to think that health was better than a fine carriage.

'Will you change places with me now ?' asked the youth. 'I will give you all I have to be strong like you.'

'But Martin said, 'Oh, no; not for the world.'

'I would gladly be poor,' said the young man, if I could run like you; but as it is God's will that I should be lame, I try to be happy and thankful as I am,'-Exchange.]

THINKING OF MAMMA.

Mamma was weary. Annette watched her at the table attending to everybody, but never attended to herself. Everybody was to be fed, every budy was to be fixed, and who was to see to it but mamma? Appetites were to please, pleasant dishes were to dress, luncheons were to be put up; every day mamma thought and did it all, but who thought of doing for mamma ?

Annette forgot that her omelette was getting cold, that the breakfast was almost over, and sat tasting and thinking as she saw the untouched food on mamma's plate, and the weariness and anxiety on her face.

Every one was off to school or to work but Annette. Mamma, exhausted from hurry and labour, sat rocking and resting. Annette looked up from her school of dolls and saw mamma, pale and tired, and remembered the untasted food on the plate at mamma's place at the breakfast.

'She is tired,' she whispered, 'she is hungry; she has so many to tend and no one to tend to her. If I was only bigger! If I was a woman like Jo'phene, or a big girl like our Ted;' and she sung a low lullaby unconsciously to the doll in her arms. "I wonder if I could,' she thought, 'if I could make her anything good. I wonder what I could make;' and, light as the air, her little feet flew over the stairs down to the kitchen and pantry below.

'I don't dare to ask about anything,' she thought, 'because mamma would say, "No, little daughter, you can get me nothing; I am not hungry, and you are too small;"' and she peeped into this jar, and pan, and dishes without number, to decide at last that she could only 'guess about making broth, which was easy, and which it was quite certain mamma would like.'

that

It was just the nicest thing in the world to hear the meat blubbering in the pot and know that she had put it there; to see the rice dancing on the bubbles, and to pick fresh parseley leaves from the garden patch and fix it in the prettiest china bowl, all ready for the broth.

Never had luncheon-tray so much fixing before; from the napkin, white as snow, to the polished spoon, everything was arranged and re-arranged till the kitchen was redolent with the vapours of broth, and Annette decided it was 'ready and done.'

Thinking of Mamma.

233

But mamma was asleep, overpowered by weariness, on the chair where she had rocked, and Annette sat on the door-sill to watch and to wait.

Boots rang on the side-walk and on the steps, and before Annette had time to do more than think, 'It sounds like Rob, but what can he want?' Rob had banged the door behind him and was whistling up the stairs.

'Hush !' said Annette, on tiptoe, 'Mamma is asleep.'

'What's the use of hushing? I've lost my lunch, and come for

more.

Mamma stirred in her sleep at the sound of the voice and creaking boots.

'Please!' pleaded Annette, 'she's so tired.' And Rob gave Annette's curls a love-pull, and turned to clatter down stairs.

'He will get something in the pantry,' she thought, and sat down again on the door-sill to watch if mamma slept or awoke to the creaking of boots.

Mamma awoke in a little while when a door banged up stairs; so Annette scampered away for the wonderful tray. But sad to behold! Rob had treated himself to his luncheon, and the tray in disorder, the parsley leaves gone, and the drippings of soup, told a tale overpowering to Annette.

'O Rob! Rob!' she sobbed, 'every one thinks of himself."

Rob tapped at the window and shook his head, and was off whistling as he went; but Annette was burning her fingers with the steam as she lifted the boiler to the light, and beheld-Oh happy sight!— that there was plenty for mamma yet.

Mamma's face was bright as she tasted her soup and looked at Annette.

Annette's heart was light as she saw mamma rested and refreshed, enjoying every drop of her unexpected lunch.

Annette's face flushed when Rob came home and said, 'Mamma, nobody comes up to you in making soup.'

So Annette knew that, though she was not so big as Ted, nor a woman like 'Jo'phine,' yet she could do something to help; and as each day the little hands sprang forward to new tasks, and the little feet flew hither and thither with the consciousness of being of use, mamma felt how pleasant it was to have some one to think of others; to have some one to do for her while she was doing for somebody

else; to have little unselfish fingers pulling up the weights that were dragging on her hands; while Annette, without knowing it, grew to be in the house as the rays of sunshine; growing brighter and more resistless every day; getting every one gradually to remember that mamma could be tired and need rest; could be over-burdened and need help; and at the same time drawing all hearts to herself, as sunshine draws the hearts to the flowers.

PROVERBS OF TRUTH.

A man may buy gold too dear.
A light purse is a heavy curse.
A little leak will sink a big ship.
All lay faults on the willing horse.
A fault confessed is half redressed.
A wise layer-up is a wise layer-out.
All are not friends that speak us fair.
A quiet conscience sleeps in thunder.
A guilty conscience needs no accuser.
An oak tree is not felled with one blow.
A bad workman quarrels with his tools.
A good name keeps its luster in the dark.
A nod from a lord is breakfast for a fool.
Always put your saddle on the right horse.
An honest man's word is as good as his bond.
An unlawful oath is better broken than kept.
A man may hold his tongue at the wrong time.

An hour in the morning is worth two in the afternoon.

An ounce of mother-wit is worth a pound of book learning.
Borrowed clothes never fit.

Better go round than fall in a ditch.

Better go alone than in bad company.

Be slow to promise, but quick to perform.

Better go to bed supperless than to get up in debt.

Cut your coat according to your cloth.

Catch the bear before you sell his skin.

Charity begins at home, but does not end there.

Doing nothing is doing ill.

Diligence commands success.

Debt is the worst kind of poverty.