"Yes," says George, expecting that he was going to be presented with some of them.

'Well, then, ask your mother to send them hither." George did so.

"Now, George, take as many apples as to give one to every boy that behaved badly to you, and the largest and best apple for the boy that behaved the worst, and see if that won't make the boys your friends, instead of complaining of them or reporting them."

George obeyed his father; took the apples when he returned to school, and presented an apple to each of the boys that he considered an enemy to him, and the largest apple to his greatest tormentor.

The boys were perfectly amazed; thought George was the quietest and best boy they had ever known; and they all became from that time his steadfast friends and helpers. He told his father how well the plan had succeeded, and he passed the remainder of his school-time most happily. George grew up; passed his probationary time creditably, and his examinations successfully, for a physician; entered on a splendid business in partnership with an established physician, in one of the largest towns in England; and has recently married the daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants of the same town. And what increases the interest of the whole is the fact, that all the parties-merchant and physician, parents and children are religious and God-fearing people.

W. B. LEIGHTON.

LOOKING WITHIN.

I HAD no sooner got into the railway carriage than I was surrounded with a number of little rosy-cheeked children, who, notwithstanding their having been torn from their beds so soon, were very cheerful, and full of prattle. They were under the superintendence of their mother, a very pleasant-looking woman of about thirty-five years of age; she had an intelligent face, and as to being a tidy, managing woman there was plenty of proof in the clean and well-behaved appearance of the "bairns." By my side, and opposite to the above-named mother, sat an aged matron, with massive features, grey hair, and dark eyes, that, looking out into the world undauntedly, seemed to say, I owe thee nought. have passed through many of thy storms; and, old as I am, I can meet a few more yet without fearing shipwreck." She was of a square build; and in her journey

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so far on through life, had kept her heart whole,-not much, if any, of its strength had gone. She had, however, lost a few of her teeth: for her chin curled up a little in the direction of her nose. She was grandmother to the "bairns," as she called them; and was accompanying her daughter and little ones into Westmoreland, where they resided. She and her old man lived at Holmfirth; her daughter had been to see her, and she was now returning the visit. "You will be fonder of these bairns than you were of your own," I said to her by way of drawing her into a few minutes' conversation. I rather longed to know the secret of her placidity of countenance, and the fearless, steady glare of her bright eye and having to get out at the next station, I had little time to do it in.

"I were e'en fond of my own childer, maister, I'll assure ye; an' I'd twelve on 'em: but I'm delighted to have these little anes about me-they remind me of my younger days; but I tell ye what, there's summat to do amang 'em."

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It has not been straightforward work for you, then," said I; "you have had your ups and downs in life."

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Ups and downs! I think I have," she earnestly replied; "and who hasn't in this world? Ay," continued she, "I've buried six aght o' twelve, and they were sore trials and it's been rough wark to raise th' other six. It's a weary world is this, to be sure. When I wor young, I used to think there wor summat sadly aght o' joint somewhere. I looked abaght me a deal to find it aght; this I did for a long time, but it wor no use. At last I happened to look into mysel', and I came at th' end o't clue I'd been seeking so long. I saw a great thumping throbbing heart, that were in a dreadful state o' disease; an' the chambers o' my mind were full o' all kinds rubbish. I said to mysel', Here's th' cause of a deal o' thy unhappiness; it's very well thau's fun it aght thau ails summat, there's more hope 'at what's wrang 'll get reighted; I wor fearful pleased, too, 'at I'd had luck to look into mysel': for I mud a looked araund me on society, as they call it, an' fun fort wi' th' queen an' all th' fine and great folk up at London, an' rated the parsons for their priestcraft, an' all my neighbours for being hypocrites an over-reachers, woll my tongue had been sore, and my face as black wi' passion as charcoil, and been no better for my pains, or done society ony good either. Good old Ebenezer (I wor brought in under his preaching) used to say 'at th' reformation o' society mun

begin wi' individuals. But my conversion wor a tough struggle, I'll assure ye. More I tried to cure my diseased heart wi' putting plaisters o' good resolution on, more it swelled an' festered, and when I offered to go into th' chambers o' my mind wi' th' brush o' good intentions to sweep daan a bit, an' make things tidier like, I wor often nearly choked wi' th' dust I raised. I tell'd Ebenezer th' state I wor in. He gave me some good counsel; he tell'd me to read the Bible wi' prayer, an' I should find summat theer 'at would answer the purpose. I looked into th' Bible vary oft, and for a long time it seemed labour lost, but at last I wor rewarded-I wor that; glory be to mercy! I came at Balm o' Gilead at last; an' I pulled th' old plaisters off my heart, an' putting some o' this balm on, I directly fun ease,-nearly all th' pricking an' smarting left it for a time, but it wor i'such a bad state, do you see, that I've constantly had to rub it ever sin'; it's a most deceitful disease, for when ye think its somewhere near cured, all the bad humours o' your nature gathers to it, an' it festers, an' pricks, an' smarts, an' breaks aght again; and I'm feared it 'll be so to th' end o' life. I've been so oft deceived wi' it, but, praise His mercy! there's Balm o' Gilead enough to last as long. And, as I tell'd ye before, when I went up-stairs into th' chambers o' my mind (old Ebenezer used to call 'em so) I could do nout i' th' way o' siding things a bit, there wor such a dust! but when I got hold o' th' lecking kan o' God's grace (ye see I speak i' figurates a bit, like old Ebenezer) th' dust wor settled directly, and I could tidy things up a bit; but there's so much dust falls and 'cumulates, that I've to be constantly at it to keep things some bit like."

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"But it appears," said I, things have gone a deal better with you ever since the change you speak of." "Better! I think they have," she replied. It's been a different world altogether to me, at least, though th' world doesn't seem to have altered much. Better!" she again repeated; "aye, I've gettan a title to the promise now. An' there's a promise for every day i'th' year if we nobbat seek it. Beside, never forget, my lad, that He who has promised 'ill do as He has said. I've proved it scores o'times, an' scores again. Get th' title, lad, an' tha'rt all reight."

The train now began to slacken its pace, and her daughter asked if we were going to Lancaster. I told her that we were going to get out then, and must bid her good bye. A sweet smile lighted up her face, as she

gracefully nodded her head, and bade us good bye. All the children, too, had a smile for us as we got out. And the old lady, relaxing a little the stern, fixed lines of her features, at the same time planting her piercing eye-ray, which entered into the very soul, she said, "My lad, get a title to th' promise, an' depend on't, tha'll get through life a deal easier, for" (here she leaned forward, stretched out her hand, and shook her forefinger at me by way of impressing upon my mind the weight of her last observation), "I've proved it to be so mysel'." Šent by O. W.

THE PREVALENCE OF BLINDNESS.

"And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them."-MATT. xxi. 14.

TRAVELLERS record that this distressing malady is very general in the East. Many physical causes unite in exerting a deleterious influence on the organs of vision. The sun is hot, and in the atmosphere floats a very fine dust or sand, which enters the eyes, causing inflammation, which being neglected ends frequently in total loss of sight. Also sleeping in the open air on the tops of houses, and exposed to the nightly dews, is another cause of this malady. One traveller calculates that there are 4,000 blind persons in Cairo alone, and another reckons about twenty in every hundred inhabitants. And when the Lord Jesus Christ dwelt among men there were many blind people who were objects of His pity; when He had given life to the dead, He then gave sight to the blind. He is the fountain of light and life. Two blind men besought Him to give them eyesight, and He did so, according to their faith. (Matt. ix. 27-31.) And Jesus said unto the disciples of John, "Go and show John again those things which ye do hear and see; the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk." "And they brought unto Jesus one that was possessed with a devil, blind, and dumb, and He healed him; insomuch that the blind and dumb both spake and saw." And blind Bartimæus cried after Jesus, and He received his sight. The man that was born blind bad access to Jesus, and then for the first time he obtained a sight of his parents, and of his neighbours and friends, and with joy he could exclaim, "One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see." And unto many that were blind Jesus gave sight. (Luke vii. 21.) And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them. Those were

the days of which the Prophet Isaiah spake, when he said, "The eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the lame man shall leap as a hart."

The blind are not all dead yet, neither do they all live in Palestine, nor in hot Eastern climes. But in the streets of our towns and villages we often see these pitiable objects. Many are the causes of blindnesssometimes the diseases to which children are subject. But many boys have been made blind by throwing stones at each other when angry and quarreling. Eyesight is precious. Never do anything to your companions that you would have to repent of bitterly afterwards; neither put a stumbling block in the way of the blind, nor cause them to wander out of the way, for God may curse you. (Deut. xxvii. 18.) A wicked woman made a poor blind man the butt of her scorn and jest, for the purpose of plaguing and distressing him; she had one day contrived a very great vexation, which succeeded. But shortly after she gave birth to a son, which was blind; and after a time to a second, which was blind also. They both grew up to be blind men. "Be sure your sin will find you out."

But there is another kind of blindness spoken of in Scripture, one which denotes ignorance and error, the blindness of the eye of the mind. All who cannot see Jesus as their Saviour are blind indeed. And it is not the want of light, but the want of sight. There is the orb of day in the firmament, but the blind man cannot see the light it sheds; so the Sun of righteousness sends forth His bright rays, but Satan hath not only put a veil before people's faces, but blinded their eyes. Say ye,

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Are we blind also?" Yea, if ye cannot see in Jesus your full and entire salvation, and recognise God as your reconciled Father, then are ye yet in your sins; ye are yet blind. But are you saying, "Sirs, we would see Jesus"? go to His temple, fall at His feet in His house, and cry, "Lord, that I may receive my sight!" for the Lord openeth the eyes of the blind. (Psa. cxlvi. 8.)

But some have wondered whether there will be blind and lame in heaven. Oh, no! these are earthly infirmities. King David would not allow the blind and the lame to come into his house. (2 Sam. v. 8.) The great King of Heaven will not let such infirmities enter His palace; all is perfect there. You will not in all those bright golden streets see one limping with lameness, nor one groping with blindness. May the reader and the writer have the happiness of meeting in that glorious country. Amen. D. MILNER.