THIS noble edifice, although now called a palace, was originally built as the Stadt Huis, or Town Hall of Amsterdam. It is called by the people of Amsterdam the eighth wonder of the world. Its architect was James Van Campen, under whose direction the work was completed in seven years, from 1648 to 1655. The most wonderful fact about it, is that it rests on a foundation of thirteen thousand six hundred and eighty wooden piles. In length it is two hundred and eighty-two feet; in breadth, two hundred and thirty-five feet; and in height, one hundred and sixteen feet; whilst its tower rises to an altitude of one hundred and fifty-seven feet. That side which fronts the Dam, a fine square in which the palace stands, has

seven doors, originally intended for the representatives of the Seven United Provinces, but now reserved exclusively for the royal family. Its exterior is ornamented by pilasters of the Composite and Corinthian Orders; and in front there is a pediment, containing a marble sculpture, representing the city of Amsterdam, as a female with a crown on her head and an olive-branch in her hand, attended by Neptune, with his usual train of Naiads and Tritons, and surmounted by three colossal statues, of Peace, Prudence, and Justice. Its interior, contains a grand saloon, formerly the Burger-zaal, or Citizens' Hall. It is one hundred and twenty feet in length, sixty feet in breadth, and one hundred feet in height; eighty feet of this height being lined with Italian marble, adorned with pilasters of the Corinthian order, and ornamented with sculptures of corn, fruit, and flowers. It contains also, some fine statues, and all these things combined with its marble floor, and otherwise rich decorations, have gained for it the credit of being the finest room in Europe. The other rooms are ornamented with some very fine sculptures and paintings, amongst which may be noticed that over the secretary's apartments, in which his fidelity, is represented by a famished dog watching over the body of his murdered master; and his secrecy, by a figure of silence, with her finger on her lips. Over the apartment, formerly devoted to commissions of bankruptcy, is a significant sculpture representing a man overturning a chest, and the rats running out of it. In the strong rooms on the ground floor, formerly used as the bank, were at one time deposited treasure to the amount of £40,000,000.

"LEFT!" WHY?

FOR SABBATH-SCHOOL TEACHERS.

THIS little word is suggestive of very melancholy reflections to every superintendent of a Sabbath-school. į Whether it be found opposite to the name of a scholar or teacher, it makes us very sad.

With regard to Sabbath-school children, we do not propose to say much of them. Some leave because the poor in large towns are continually changing their residence, and of course, their children must go with them; some, because they are led away by bad companions; others, because they get tired of the teaching and the task. Our principal concern now is with the teachers, for whom this paper is directly designed, and against whose name from time to time this word is found.

"Left!" why? Because the work was commenced in his own strength, and he very soon became tired. In this case the person entered unthinkingly into the responsible position of a Sabbath-school teacher; he did not think that it required any particular exertion; it never occurred to him that for such a little work as teaching a few children, so awful an instrumentality as the power of the Holy Ghost was required; and so he soon found himself unequal to what he had undertaken, and dropped away. And what else are we to expect? We cannot hope that men will thrive apart from God, or that He will honour the toils or the intentions of any who do not put him in his proper place. As you commenced teaching without consulting the Lord, so you are very likely to leave off also without seeking what is His will; and having put your hand to the plough, and not only looked back, but even left it altogether, is there not too much reason to fear that you will be pronounced "unfit for the kingdom of heaven?"

"Left!" why? Because he grew tired of the sameness of his work. Sabbath after Sabhath there were the same dull and heavy boys. Very little progress did they make; very little variety was there in the school routine; our teacher first grew discontented, then tired, and at last he went away. And yet the children were not altogether so dull but that he might have not only succeeded in interesting them, but interesting himself with them. Some of those boys have turned out very well under a teacher who took pains to bring out their faculties, who did not spare himself, for he had a right good heart for

his work. But this teacher had neither patience nor energy, and so he left. And should these few lines meet the eyes of any one who is now beginning to get tired from any cause; I would entreat him to pause and reflect before he makes up his mind to leave his post. If a man gets tired of his profession, is that considered a sufficient reason for his leaving it? Does not the sheer force of necessity make many a man continue in a position which in itself he does not like? Want stares him in the face if he gives up his means of bread; and forasmuch as employment for God is higher than any employment for self, can we suppose that so miserable an excuse will be accepted, that we have such a right over ourselves as to leave because we feel tired? Think, my dear friends; you cannot surely intend, when God calls you to account for deserting His work, to tell Him that you were tired of it! The bare thought of being obliged to make such an acknowledgment makes you instinctively shrink back; and yet if you leave because you are tired, you must say so; you must speak the truth. What future anguish may be involved in the record, in the simple Sabbath-school roll, of this one little word, "Left!"

"Left!" why? Because he was offended. Some of his class were moved up; he was not consulted in such and such an arrangement that was made; he thought that some one was put above him, and so his pride was hurt. And because of this he left; to gratify his own vanity he deserted his Lord's work, and by trying to make himself something, he became worse than nothing. It never struck such an one that the interests of the school were to be placed infinitely above all others, and especially above all personal considerations; that the Lord's people are in service, and should therefore think of their service, and not of themselves; that in the school as well as elsewhere, a Christian must be content to take the lowest room. Think, dear reader, if you ever feel inclined to become a deserter on this account, how very sad a spectacle you must present in the sight of God. He sees you as one who prefers a position of honour amid his

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fellow men, to one in the vineyard and the sight of the Most High; as one who would rather allow souls to perish than to abate one jot or tittle of his dignity; as one neither knowing or practising the example of the humble Christ. What have we, as hard-working men in the vineyard, to do with earthly honour or earthly praise ? If our work were of the world, or for it, then, indeed, there would be some sense in striving for a foremost place; but our work is not of the world, the world has nothing to do with it; to the future, and the future alone, should we look for position and reward, for then shall every man have praise of God. Never, then, think, even for a single moment, of deserting the army of the Lord, because your self-love, or your pride, or vanity are wounded. Have you not received infinitely above your merits in being allowed to do any thing for Christ at all? To leave for such a cause as this is to put self above Jesus, and the gratification of one's vanity above the salvation of immortal souls. We can imagine few things more awful than for such a cause as this to have written after my teacher's name this one word, "Left."

"Left!" why? Because he got married, and thought his wife had more claim upon him than God. Until he was married he was a most excellent and regular teacher; but after that, he first became irregular in the hour of attendance; then he was absent about once in three weeks, and then he "left." How can we hope to be blessed in our new relationships of life, if we allow them to make us less active for the Lord than we were before? Is there not too much reason to suppose that the Lord will reckon with us in the very quarter in which we sin, and that we shall have no real, no abiding blessing in that which we are making a curse to ourselves, by allowing it to keep us from His work? We cannot forget what was said of one who made this very excuse: "I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come."

And thus we might go on, giving reason after reason for all these melancholy entries in the rolls of our Sabbathschools; but we forbear. Let us earnestly hope that