preachers as Thomas Batty, John Flesher, John Day, William Sanderson, William Harland, and many others have all had their supper-milk out of this pot. The pot is still to hand, and is being used as in days past; and if any of my boy readers should live to be travelling preachers, and be appointed to this station, they may have the pleasure of drinking milk, or tea, or coffee, as they fancy, out of 'the preachers' pot.' BENJAMIN MOODY.

The Manly, Lobing Boy.

He walks beside his mother,
And looks up in her face
With a glow of loving, joyous pride,
And a truly royal grace;
He proudly waits upon her-
Would shield her without fear,
The boy who loves his mother well,
Her little cavalier.

To see no tears of sorrow

Upon her loving cheek,

To gain her sweet, approving smile,
To hear her softly speak-

Ah, what in all this wide, wide world
Could be to him so dear,

The boy who loves his mother well, Her little cavalier?

Look for that boy in the future
Among the good and true;

All blessing on the upward way
His feet shall still pursue!

Of robed and crowned and sceptred kings
He stands the royal peer,

The boy who loves his mother well,
Her noble cavalier.

The Abruzzo.

Scholar. Please, teacher, tell me where is the country which you call Abruzzo.

Teacher. It is in the kingdom of Italy. It lies on the coast of the Adriatic Sea, and its chief towns are Teramo and Aquila. If you examine the map of Italy you will easily find it.

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Teacher. Well, it is for the most part a wild country, and very hilly. Some of the hills are very high. The range of hills known as the Apennines run right through it, and from this range there are many smaller branches of hills running off on both sides.

Scholar. If it be so hilly I guess it won't grow much.

Teacher. The high hills are mostly barren; but the valleys are warm and fruitful, and grow corn, hemp, flax, almonds, olives, figs, grapes, and ches

nuts.

Scholar. Are the chesnuts like ours?

Teacher.-Well, they are like ours, but much larger and sweeter, and more suitable for food. In the picture overleaf you see a girl of the Abruzzo with a basket of chesnuts which she is carrying to market.

Scholar. Is it a cold country?

Teacher. It is both-cold and hot. In winter the mountains are bitterly cold, so much so that the shepherds have to remove their flocks to the lowlands. The valleys, even in winter, are mild, and in summer they are very hot.

Scholar. You said the country is wild.

Teacher.-Yes, large parts of it are uncultivated, and there are wide-spreading forests, scores of miles in extent, where bears, wolves, and wild boars prowl at large. And then, some of the mountains are rugged and difficult to climb.

Scholar. What are the people like ?

eacher. As far as looks go, they are well enough. They have pleasant features, a brownish complexion, and coal-black eyes.

Scholar. Are they religious?

Teacher. They are nearly all Roman Catholics, and are religious in their way. But they are extremely ignorant.

Scholar. I should scarcely like to live amongst such a people.

are

Teacher.-Perhaps not. And yet, I am told they a kind-hearted people, and hospitable to strangers. You must not think that because they live in a wild country and are Roman Catholics they have, therefore, nothing good about them. Some who live in wild, out-of-the-way places are better than some who live in cities, and Roman Catholics are sometimes better than Protestants.

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Jesus Feeding the Multitude.

'FIVE thousand men, besides women and children;' what a large multitude! sufficient to crowd Mr. Spurgeon's Tabernacle. There they are, gathered in a lonely place among the hills, near the sea of Galilee. They have come from the surrounding towns and villages to attend the ministry of Jesus. And they bring many of their sick with them, for they have heard of His great works of healing, and they hope He may have pity on and restore their afflicted friends. Nor are they disappointed. As soon as He saw the multitude, His compassion was moved. Crowds of people always moved Him deeply. And this was owing, not so much to their bodily ailments as to their souls' ailments. We read that once, 'when He saw the multitude, He was moved with compassion on them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad as sheep having no shepherd.' But while He felt and felt deeply for their souls, He also felt and felt deeply for their bodily sufferings; and He made it one part of His mission to relieve them. Usually He mixed words of truth with acts of mercy, thus ministering to soul and body at the same time. It was so on the occasion we are here speaking of. Nearly the whole of the day was spent in teaching and healing, in speaking words by which their poor souls might be cured of their sins, and in performing acts of merciful healing upon their afflicted ones, the maimed, the halt, the blind. What a day that was to the assembled crowds, a day never to be forgotten! So excited, so transported were they with what they heard and saw, that they took no note of the flight of time, nor were they even conscious of the cravings of hunger. Not at least for a long while; but at length, after the strain upon their attention and feelings had lasted for many hours, nature asserted her claims and they hungered. How they have to be fed now engages the anxious thoughts of the disciples. What makes the case more serious is that the shades of night are closing upon them, and they are far away from their homes, some of them many miles. Full of anxiety, the disciples come to Jesus and urge Him to send the people away at once, that they may purchase bread in the neighbouring villages as they move homewards. This, however, does not meet with His approval. 'Send them away hungering!' exclaimed the Master; 'that will never do. And there's no need of it. Give ye them something to eat.' The words of Jesus confound the disciples. What could

they do with feeding such a multitude? It would take pounds' worth of bread even to give each a mouthful. And so, to bring the matter to an end, they say to Jesus, 'We have here only five barley loaves and two fishes; but what are they among so many? It would only be a mockery to set such a handful of food before such a multitude.' How surprised they must have felt when Jesus ordered them to bring Him the loaves and fishes, and then commanded the multitude to sit down among the thick grass. They had seen Him exert a miraculous power in many other ways, but they had no idea of His doing so in the way He was now about to do, and they were at a loss what to think. And now, taking the bread and fishes, He looked up to heaven supplicating a blessing, and then He ordered His disciples to distribute them among the multitude. And as they distribute, strange to say, instead of the food becoming less, it becomes more. The more is given, the more remains. It grows, it multiplies in their hands until after that vast crowd is fed and satisfied there's more left than before a crumb was eaten,-twelve baskets full. Wonderful work! you say. Yes, it is wonderful, but if you think for a little you won't see anything in it more wonderful than what's taking place every day around you. Look at that single grain of corn, which you can take between your finger and thumb. You cast it into the ground, and for a while it seems dead and lost. But, after a time, you don't know how, it sprouts and grows; first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear; it multiplies thirty, sixty, or a hundred fold. You cast the produce of this grain into the ground, and in the same mysterious way there is wonderful growth and increase. And if you go on doing the same thing for a few seasons, you will have harvests sufficient to feed multitudes far larger than the one fed with the five barley loaves. And is not this as wonderful as what you call the miracle? I think it is really more wonderful. Because its common, because its taking place every day before your eyes, we don't see its wonderfulness. Whether we think of it or not, the hand of God is even more wonderfully seen in the growth of a corn of wheat than in the miracle of the five barley loaves.

Faith Illustrated.

ONE of the simplest and best illustrations of 'faith' which I remember to have seen is a story told by

The boy blushed, but that was all. One by one the teacher repeated the words and the action to each. Some stared, some blushed, some smiled incredulously, but none took the watch. But when he came nearly to the bottom of the class, a small boy put out his hand and took the watch which the teacher handed to him. As the latter returned to his seat, the little fellow said, gently:

'Then, if you please, sir, the watch is mine?' 'Yes, it is yours.'

The elder boys were fairly roused by this time. 'Do you mean to say, sir, that he may keep the watch?'

'Certainly; I gave it to any boy who would have it.' 'O, if I had known that,' exclaimed one of them, 'I would have taken it.'

'Did I not tell you I gave it to you?'

'O yes; but I did not believe you were in earnest.' 'So much the worse for you; he believed me, and he has the watch.'

Saving faith is as simple as this. It just takes God at His word and trusts Him. Though it sounds too good to be true, Christ is the gift of God freely and fully offered (St. John iii. 19), 'His unspeakable gift.'

Lost and Found.

LONDON is so large a city that even dogs sometimes get lost in it; so that, occasionally, valuable animals stray away from their owners, and are only recovered after a great deal of anxiety and expense; if, indeed, they are ever found again.

'Louis' was a Pomeranian dog, greatly prized by his master, who taught him many pretty tricks, among the rest to attract his attention by giving four short significant barks, like a postman's double knock at the door. But one sad day 'Louis' was lost, having wandered into the park near his master's house. The loss was duly advertised in the morning papers, and Mr. Graham, his master, left no means untried to discover the whereabouts of his lost favourite, but in vain ; and when three months had

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expired without hearing anything of his welfare, it was sadly supposed that 'Louis' must be dead or irretrievably lost.

At length Mr. Graham resolved to buy another dog to replace the missing favourite, and seeing an advertisement in the paper, that a man who sold dogs in the east of London had some beautiful Pomeranians to dispose of, on a fine Saturday afternoon Mr. Graham visited the dog-fancier's house, with the intention of making a purchase.

It was a curious place in which he found himself -an old, dilapidated house, every room of which was filled with cages or boxes containing valuable and, in some instances, very rare specimens of the canine race. Room after room was entered into with great curiosity, but nowhere did Mr. Graham see a dog that he cared to buy. At length, in the lower kitchen, his attention was arrested by a little spaniel, who was tied, by a string attached to his collar, to his bed on the first shelf. While looking at him, a dog in the adjoining cage, which had been asleep, awoke, and at once showed signs of great excitement. To Mr. Graham's amazement he heard from the cage the well-known 'postman's rap' of his lost dog. He was sure that no other dog could bark thus, so he asked that the door should be opened and this dog shown him.

Yes! it was 'Louis,' who had recognised his master at once, and ran to him, leaping upon him with eagerness, showing the fidelity which dogs always exhibit to those to whom they become attached. It seems that 'Louis' had wandered in the park and lost his way there, and had been found by a boy, who took him home and kept him for a few weeks, but finally sold him to his present owner. When the latter heard that the dog had once been Mr. Graham's, he expressed himself perfectly willing to restore him to his former owner upon the payment of his expenses, an arrangement which Mr. Graham was quite willing to ratify.

Mr. Graham subsequently obtained the name and address of the young lad who found 'Louis,' and having discovered that he had been kind to the dog while the latter was in his care, he bestowed upon him some marks of his favour.

All this happened a few years ago, but nowadays there is a Home for Lost Dogs at Battersea, and people who find dogs straying generally take them to the police-station, and the animals are sent from there to the home at Battersea, so that owners know where to go to look for their lost favourites.