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A Savoury Bish.

'Nor yet, Pussy, if you please. The broth is hot, and you must wait till it cools, as I have to do. Oh, yes, I know what your purring means; you want a share in my dinner, and you shall have a share if you be patient a little. And you, Rover, there you are, looking on with longing eyes. You also want to share in the good things going, don't you? Well, when your turn comes I won't forget you. You and I are old friends, and many a time I have given you a nice bit when I could have eaten it myself. But what's that I hear? Oh, it's little Tibby, who smells the steam of the broth, and would like to taste as well as smell. Well, Tibby, you shall not go without a taste, though I can't promise you much. But I must mind what I'm doing. This is my dinner, and I must have the first share. But I won't take much, for I'm not hungry, and what's left I'll divide among you.'

Jesus Raising the Widow's Son. On a certain day two crowds of people met at the entrance to the city of Nain, the one going out, the other coming in. The crowd entering the city consisted of Jesus and his disciples, together with a number of people who had been attracted by His words and works. The other crowd consisted chiefly of a funeral procession, proceeding to the place of burial outside the city. The dead person about to be buried was a man, a young man. The young die as well as the old. We sometimes hear it said, the young may die, the old must. And this is true; but we had better not forget that the greater number of people die when young. By far the majority of the human race die before reaching the age of twenty. The chief mourner in this funeral procession was the mother of the young man, and when I say that he was her only son, you may be sure her 'grief was deep and bitter. And when it is further said that the bereaved mother was a widow, you will see that her trouble must have been almost too much for her to bear. If she had had other children left to comfort her, or if she had had a husband to support and console her in her bereavement, the case would not have been so bad. As it was, she was utterly desolate, and we don't wonder that as she followed the remains of her only son to the grave she wept bitterly. As soon as Jesus saw her He had compassion on her. It was just

such a sight as was likely to move His compassion. When did ever He cast His eyes upon scenes of human suffering without His feelings being moved? Whether the suffering he saw was of a bodily or spiritual nature, it always touched His loving heart. In kindest tones of tenderness and pity He said to the widow, 'Weep not;' and then, turning to the bearers of the dead, He touched the bier, or open coffin, thus arresting the procession. Who is this? What's the meaning of His strange conduct? Such questions as these were probably passing in suppressed tones among the mourners, for they did not know Him. The other crowd, who knew something of His miraculous power, and who just the day before had witnessed the miraculous cure of the centurion's son, were likely expecting Him to do something wonderful; nor were they kept long in suspense. Addressing the lifeless form stretched in the open coffin, he said, 'Young man, I say unto thee, arise.' Instantly-as if an electric shock had gone through him-he sat up. He not only sat up-as much as that might be done by the action of an electric battery-but he began to speak, showing that the intelligent soul, which had passed out of the body, had heard and obeyed the voice of Jesus, and had returned to its former tenement of clay. Yes, there can be no mistake, the dead's alive again. Jesus proves Himself to be the Lord of life, and to hold in His hands the keys of the invisible world. He conquers death even before achieving the crowning victory in His own glorious resurrection. And now, after restoring the young man to life, He delivers him to his mother. This is the reason why He said unto her, 'Weep not.' She will surely do now what He bade her do. She will dry her tears, or, if she weep, she will weep for joy. Nothing is said of what passed between mother

and son on the occasion of their miraculous re-union, nor of what passed betwen them and Jesus. It would be much if they did not rush into each others arms in a tumult of gladness; and it would be more if they did not fall down at the feet of Jesus, and pour out their hearts in adoring love and gratitude. The two crowds of people, now mingled as one, saw in the raising to life of the widow's son a display of the mighty power of God, for what power but His could bring the dead to life? And they gave free expression to their convictions, saying, that Jesus must be a prophet of the Most High, since the Divine seal had been openly stamped upon His ministry; and also saying, that God had in mercy again visited His people. Whether the good impressions were

only temporary, or whether they resulted in the citizens of Nain becoming good and godly people, the record does not say.

How the Russians keep Warm.

THE Russians have a great knack of making their winter pleasant. You feel nothing of the cold in those tightly-built houses, where all doors and windows are double, and where the rooms are kept warm by big stoves hidden in the walls. There is no damp in a Russian house, and the inmates may dress indoor in the lightest of garbs, which contrast oddly with the mass of furs and wraps which they don when going out.

He

A Russian can afford to run no risk of exposure when he leaves the house for a walk or drive. covers his head and ears with a fur bonnet, his feet and legs with felt boots, lined with wool or fur, which are drawn over the ordinary boots and trousers, and reach each up to the knees. He next cloaks himself in a top-coat, with a fur collar, lining, and cuffs; he buries his hands in a pair of fingerless gloves of seal or bear skin. Thus equipped, and with the collar of his coat raised all around so that it muffles him up to the eyes, the Russian exposes only his nose to the cold air; and he takes care frequently to give that organ a little rub to keep the circulation going. A stranger, who is apt to forget the precaution, would often get his nose frozen if it were not for the courtesy of the Russians, who will always warn him if they see his nose 'whitening,' and will, unbidden, help him to chafe it vigorously with snow.

In Russian cities walking is just possible for men during the winter, but hardly so for ladies. The women of the lower order wear knee boots; those of the shopkeeping class seldom venture out at all; those of the aristocracy go out in sleighs. The sleighs are by no means pleasant vehicles for nervous people, for the Kalmuck coachmen drive them at such a terrific pace that they frequently capsize.

Alphabet of Proverbs.

A GRAIN of produce is worth a pound of craft.
Boasters are cousins to liars.

Confession of a fault makes half amends.
Denying a fault doubles it.

Envy shooteth at others and woundeth herself.
Foolish fear doubles danger.

God reaches us good things by our hands.
He has hard work who has nothing to do.

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It costs more to revenge wrongs than to bear them.
Knavery is the worst trade.

Learning makes a man fit company for himself.
Modesty is a guard to virtue.

Not to hear conscience is the way to silence it.
One hour to-day is worth two to-morrow.
Proud looks make foul work in fair faces.
Quiet conscience gives quiet sleep.

Richest is he that wants least.

Small faults indulged are little thieves that let in greater.

The boughs that bear most hang lowest.
Upright walking is sure walking.

Virtue and happiness are mother and daughter.
Wise men make more opportunities than they find
You never lose by doing a good turn.
Zeal without knowledge is fire without light.

Becision of Character.

THE boy or girl who cannot say 'No,' and say it decidedly, has a great lesson to learn, which must be learned if any true manhood or womanhood is to be reached. The weak will, which yields because somebody urges, without stopping to consider the right or wrong of the matter, is an enemy which must be turned out. There is but one true will, and that is God's will, and there is no safety but in seeking to become acquainted with that.

Tom Evans was a bright, promising boy, quick to learn, obliging, and of pleasing address. He had many friends, and fair prospects in life; but Tom's weak will, and something which is called 'good nature,' proved too much for him. When a boy his companions could lead him where they would. Father and mother's commands and pleadings were forgotten as soon as a comrade called out,

'Hallo, Tom, you are just the fellow we want. Come along; we're going to have some fun !'

Tom used to say sometimes, 'I'm sure I don't know what makes me go with those fellows. I don't want to, and don't mean to! I know very well that they will do me no good.'

Tom grew to be a-man, shall I say? No, he cannot be called a man who has no moral force in him. Like a leaf, Tom blew hither and thither with

every breeze. Now, some earnest Christian laid hold of Tom, and tried to show him the source of all true will, and for a time there would seem to be promise of new life; but, alas! Tom's goodness was like the morning dew! Some gay young fellow would call out, when he thought things were looking serious,

'Hi, Tom, gettin' pious, are you? Come take a drink, and let's talk it over.' And down Tom would go.

Tom went down at last in good earnest. Some counterfeiters used him for a tool in getting their bad notes into circulation, and the end of it was that Tom was sent to prison.

Yes, it is true that Tom's will was weak by nature, and that goes to show how greatly he needed another and higher will than his own. We all need to have God's will given us with which to do his will!

A Talk with Ned:

You want to know, Ned, what is the first quality of manhood?

Well, listen. I am going to tell you in one little word of five letters. And I am going to write that word in very loud letters, as though you were deaf, so that you may never forget it. The word is 'truth.'

Now, then, remember truth is the only foundation on which can be erected a manhood that is worthy of being so called.

Mark what I say, truth must be the foundation on which the whole character is erected, for, otherwise, no matter how beautiful the upper stories may be, and no matter of how good material they may be built, the edifice, the character, the manhood, will be but a sham, which offers no sure refuge and protection to those who seek it, for it will tumble down when trial comes.

Alas, my boy, the world is very full of such shams of manhood, in every profession and occupation. There are lawyers in this town who know that they have never had any training to fit them for their work, who yet impose upon the people, and take their money for giving them advice which they know they are unfitted to give. I heard of one lately who advised his partner 'never to have anything to do with law-books, for they would confuse his mind!'

There are ignorant physicians, who know that they are ignorant, and who can and do impose

upon people more ignorant than themselves. There are preachers without number pretending to know what they have never learned. Don't you see that their manhood is at best but a beautiful deceit ?

Now, I want you to be a man; and that you may be that, I want you first and foremost to be true, thoroughly true. I hope you would scorn to tell a lie; but that is only the very beginning of truthfulness. I want you to despise all sham, all pretence, all effort to seem to be otherwise than

we are.

When we have laid that foundation then we can go on to build up a manhood, glorious and godlike, after the perfect imagine of Him, the perfect Man, who said that He was born that He might bear witness to the truth.

An Old Man's Valentine. 'Give me a Valentine, Youth'And the old man's cheeks were aglow,

Though a staff was in his hand
And his hair was white as snow-
Give me a Valentine-something nice;
The girl I love is beyond a price.

'One of the old-fashioned kind,
All sweet with the perfume of flowers ;
With dear little simple rhymes,
And two lovers in rosy bowers;
With a timid hope and a thought of tears—
That has been my style for fifty years.

'This one will suit her, I think.
Her eyes, as these blossoms, are blue,

White as these lilies her hair,
Like this dove, she is tender and true.
Just such a Valentine-smiles and fears-
As I've sent her now for fifty years.

'No need for laughing, young men !
But laugh when you're seventy years old,

If the girl you love to-day

Is beloved of you seventy-fold;
Laugh if you've had, through fifty years' strife,
The wonderful joy of a faithful wife.

'Send her a Valentine, then,
As I'm sending my wife to-day;
Send her one every year,
For that is a true Lover's way.
God give you, young men, a wife like mine,
And you'll send her, I know, a Valentine.'

Miss Forder and the Fishwife.

Miss Forder.-Have you any nice soles this morning?

The Fishwife.-Yes, Miss; real beauties. Miss Forder.-And do you say they are fresh? The Fishwife.-Fresh? Yes, Miss; they came from the sea a few hours ago.

Miss Forder.-Are you quite sure of that? The Fishwife.-You don't doubt my word, Miss? Our Bob brought them in his own boat.

Miss Forder.-Is Bob your husband? The Fishwife.-Yes, Miss; and I've no need to be ashamed of him. He's as clever a fisherman as ever held an oar or cast a net. And a kinder husband woman never had.

Miss Forder.-But are you not often in fear of his life?

The Fishwife.-Oh yes, Miss. Many an aching

and anxious heart I have. Only the other night, when the wind was up and the sea high, I scarcely slept a wink.

Miss Forder.-I don't wonder at what you say. When your husband is out in stormy weather, it must be an anxious time for you.

The Fishwife.-It is indeed, Miss; and I have wanted Bob to give up fishing, and to get a living on land; for he has clever hands, and would be sure to get on. But, in spite of the danger, Bob likes the salt water. And so, we must just trust to Providence.

Miss Forder.-I am glad to hear you talking in that way. If you trust in Him, He will take care of you and your husband.

The Fishwife.-Yes, Miss; I believe He will.

Miss Forder.-I shall take a couple of these soles. They are for a poor sick man in the village. What's the price?