to them in the interim every fourth month. Admitted by a petition laid upon the altar, and prostration at the feet of all the monks. Parents to offer their children by wrapping their hands in the pall of the altar; promising to quit nothing to them (that they might have no temptation to leave the house); and, if they gave anything with them, to reserve the use of it during their lives. Priests requesting admission to be tried by delays, to sit near the abbot, not to exercise sacerdotal functions without leave, and conform to the rule. Discipline-Upon successless admonition and public reprehension, excommunication; and, in failure of this, corporal chastisement. For light faults, the smaller excommunication, or eating alone after the others had done. For great faults, separation from the table, prayers, and society, and neither himself nor his food to receive the benediction: those who joined him or spoke to him to be themselves excommunicated. The abbot to send seniors to persuade him to humility and making satisfaction. The whole congregation to pray for the incorrigible, and, if unsuccessful, to proceed to expulsion. No person expelled to be received after the third expulsion. Children to be corrected with discretion, by fasting or whipping."

Substantially these regulations are applicable to nunneries. The houses are generally not so religious as some credulous persons think. That there have been pious monks and nuns we very cordially believe; but the system is radically bad and offers many temptations to secret sinning. History and tradition speak of some fearful crimes that have been perpetrated within the walls of those cloisters. The revelations of Gavazzi, in relation to certain Italian convents, make one's ears tingle. At the time of the Reformation England suppressed these religious houses, as they are called, to the number of 3,182, and confiscated the yearly revenue, amounting to about £143,000. Since then we have grown tolerant, and these buildings are rising in various parts of the country. We augur no good, neither political nor religious, from their multiplication,

SAVED THROUGH HIS CHILDREN.

A MAN living in the west of England-a thriving tradesman, with a happy wife and two little children—seemed to have his cup of blessing full; but, little by little, the wife got a liking for the horrid drink, and at last died the victim of it; the husband, overwhelmed with grief at his loss, took to drink in order to drown his sorrow; and soon the thriving business had to be given up, the comfortable house was left, and he and his two children removed to a wretched hovel in one of the back streets of the town. From bad things got to worse: the man was seldom, if ever, sober. Saturday night was the worst of the week, and the Sabbath was spent in sleeping off the effects of the past night's drinking, and partly in more drinking. The boy and girl were one day sitting, lonely enough, thinking of their mother, and weeping as they recalled her once loving care of them, now gone for ever, and then of their "father," and they wondered if he would ever be the kind-hearted father he had once been to them.

"I say, Willie," said the girl, "let's try and keep him at home on Sunday; you know it's his worst day."

"Oh yes, we'll try," said Willie, who always looked upon his sister as a sort of female Solomon; "but how can we do it ?"

“Well, I'll tell you what we'll do; we will begin by having a good fire. There's always good fires at the publichouse; and perhaps that's why father goes there."

"And 1," said Willie, "will try and earn some money, and we shall have a breakfast for him, shan't we ?"

On Friday they both gathered sticks for a good fire, and Willie started to look out for a job. A gentleman asked him to hold his horse, and when he rode away, gave him a shilling. With what delight did Willie run home and display his nugget of silver-twelve whole pennies! What a breakfast they would get! Then it was decided they

should go out and buy it; so off they set, two little market folks, and 'twas wonderful what a lot of things they got for the shilling-bread, tea, cheese, butter, sugar, and a herring, which they took home to hide until Sunday morning. At last Sunday came: their father was in bed as usual. Willie piled all the wood up in the grate, but he would not light it too soon, for fear it should burn away too quickly, and there be not enough to last. The girl arranged the table as tidily and nicely as she could; for a cloth she spread her apron, and the bread she placed with a broken knife at the side, and the old cracked tea-pot she rubbed as bright as could be, whilst she stationed herself as sentinel at the foot of the stairs, to give the first signal when father should be getting up. At last the signal's given; the watch-whisper is passed, "He's getting up," and crack goes the match, and soon a roaring fire is blazing on the hearth, and almost as soon the half-sober man rushes down stairs to see if the house is on fire; but as he came to the foot of the stairs he stood as if ordered for execution. What could it mean? A fire blazing, and a table neatly covered for breakfast. What could it mean? At last he stammered out, "What's the meaning of this, children ?” With touching simplicity, and a tremulous voice, the girl replied, "Father, it's to keep you at home on Sunday." He understood the whole thing at once. When he had finished dressing, he came down stairs and sat at the table, but could not eat; the fact was, conscience was at work. "Father, would you like me to read to you out of my lesson-book?" She did not say she meant the Bible, for fear of a refusal. He said she might if she liked.

"Have

She sat down and read the fifty-first psalm. mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is ever before me." As she read, the man felt as if it had been written for him his

:

heart was beginning to be broken. When his daughter had finished the psalm, she said, "Father, shall I read you another ?" "Read on, child," was the reply. She turned to the 103rd psalm, and read these words, "The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. He will not always chide, neither will He keep His anger for ever. He hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities; for as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is His mercy towards them that fear Him." These words were like oil on troubled waters; and bending his head over his hand, James Harper sobbed, and cried for mercy. Angels watched the scene, and carried to God the news of a repenting sinner, turning by a tiny worker to seek pardon. The Spirit of God took hold of the man, and soon a change came over him he was converted. Once and for ever he renounced the drink,—that awful curse; it was not long before he gained his old position, and he now thanks God day by day that he has been made a happy and useful Christian man, saved through the instrumentality of his two little children.

DR. LEIFCHILD AND A YOUNG FEMALE. WHEN, in early life, Mr. Leifchild was travelling from York by a stage-coach he met with a young female, to whom he addressed some words of a religious character. "Where are you going to ?" asked he. "To London," was the reply. "And where after this life ?" continued he. "I don't know," answered the young female. Upon this admission, serious exhortations ensued, and the young minister gave the young female a book, which she promised to read. "May I ask your name?" inquired she. "You will never know it," was the reply. "Where are you going to ?" asked she in her turn. "Home to be married," was the only answer. After this he became very affable and good

humoured, and the two parted, never, as they then supposed, to meet again.

Many years afterwards the female alluded to, having become the wife of a commercial man, resided in the neighbourhood of Leicester-square. A new minister, and the first pastor, had then come to Craven chapel. She was anxious to hear him, and repaired to the chapel for that purpose one Sabbath morning. As he proceeds in the discourse mysterious memories seem to haunt her, and the tones of a voice once heard in years long past deeply touched her heart. She looked and listened earnestly, and when she reached her home, after the service, she exultingly exclaimed, "I have found him! I have found him!" "Whom have you found? enquired her husband. "The gentleman who gave me that book, so blessed to my soul," added the wife; "the gentleman I met on the York coach so many years ago; and whom I have so often mentioned to you. He is Mr. Leifchild, the minister of Craven chapel."

After some difficulty a front pew was secured by this lady for herself and family. Every Sunday, husband, wife, and sons and daughters filled that pew; and every Sunday met the writer's eye as he looked up towards his father.

The minister was soon privately reminded of the word in season which he had dropped on the highway so many years before, and of the little book he had presented to his fellowpassenger from York. From the success of this early attempt at usefulness he became particularly interested in this lady and her large family. Not only was he a diligent pastor, but also, in connection with his wife, a kind friend and judicious counsellor to that household.

For several years that front pew in the gallery was filled with the entire members of this family; and the children grew up under the beloved minister until they ceased to be children and settled in houses of their own. At length the mother drew near her end, and testified upon her death-bed to the value of that ministry, and those pastoral and friendly counsels which for so many years she had enjoyed. A brief