THE CURATE AND THE BRICKLAYER.

THE CURATE AND THE BRICKLAYER.

A MANCHESTER curate, while walking along a street at the dinnerhour, passed a lot of bricklayers smoking their afternoon pipes, and heard one of them say-"I'd like to be a parson, and have naught to do but to walk along in a long black coat, and carry a walking-stick in my fist, and get a lot of brass."

Of course there was a laugh at the parson's expense, but he turned sharp around and replied:-" So you'd like to be a parson? How much do you get a week?"

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Twenty-seven shillings," was the reply.

Well," said the curate, "though I'm only a poor man, I'll give you twenty-seven shillings if you'll come along with me for six days, and see how you like it. Then you'll be better able to talk about it."

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The bricklayer tried to back out of it, but his mates told him : Nay, man, thou said'st thou'd like it; thou mun go with the parson, chap."

So he put on his coat and started with the curate, amidst a roar of laughter.

The parson presently turned down an alley, and told his companion that they were going to see a sick man, and that he must mind not to make a noise going up stairs.

"What might be the matter with him?" asked the bricklayer. "Small-pox," said the parson.

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sir;

"Oh, then," said the man, Ill just wait outside for you, for I've not had it myself, and I've got a wife and children to think of."

"That's exactly my case," replied the curate;" "for I have not had it, and I have a wife and children depending on me. But you agreed to come with me wherever I went."

The man of bricks began not to like it, and after a moment's hesitation, he asked: "And where are you going next?"

The parson told him they would have to visit another house that day where the father lay in his coffin and all the family were down with the scarlet fever, and also a house where there was typhus; and on the morrow there would be a longer round.

This floored the bricklayer.

"Sir," he said, I'll go back to my old job, if you please, and I'll say no more agin you parsons."

So off he went; and let us hope he kept his word, and never taunts the parson with having "naught to do but to walk about in a long black coat, and get a lot of brass.

BIBLE THOUGHTS.

GOD'S THOUGHTFULNESS.

WHAT life is not full of tokens of the Divine thoughtfulness? We are so accustomed to the reception of blessings, comfort, relief, or help, at the right moment that we have ceased to think of the marvellousness of the lovingkindness that is watchful, and never comes too late. And who that is living in communion with God is not conscious of receiving intimations and suggestions concerning his work, or present duty, which could come only from above? Who has not been powerfully impressed at some time with the feeling that he ought to do a certain thing, or see a certain person? And when he has obeyed the strange impulse he has found some imperative work waiting for him. Following such voices, I have found sometimes sore distress to relieve, sometimes a breaking heart to cheer, sometimes an imperilled life to rescue from a snare, sometimes an anxious soul to lead to Christ. So often have I been divinely led by such whispered voices, that I dare not ever disregard them. It is thus, among many other ways, that our blessed Master sends us on errands to those who need help. Verily, God rules. He never forgets us. Our individual lives, with all their minute interests and needs, He carries ever in His thoughts. Whoever may forget us, He never will. Whoever may neglect us, He is thoughtful and will always find some way of sending blessing at the moment it is needed.

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Poetry.

THE RIGHT MUST WIN.

Oн, it is hard to work for God,
To rise and take His part
Upon this battle-field of earth,
And not sometimes lose heart!
He hides Himself so wondrously,
As though there were no God;
He is least seen when all the powers
Of ill are most abroad.

Or He deserts us at the hour
The fight is all buc lost;

And seems to leave us to ourselves
Just when we need Him most.

Ill masters good, good seems to change
To ill with greatest ease;

And, worst of all, the good with good
Is at cross-purposes.

Ah! God is other than we think;
His ways are far above,

Far beyond reason's height, and reached
Only by childlike love.

Workman of God! Oh, lose not heart,
But learn what God is like;
And in the darkest battle-field

Thou shalt know where to strike.

Thrice blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
That God is on the field when He
Is most invisible.

Blest, too, is he who can divine
Where real right doth lie,
And dares to take the side that seems
Wrong to man's blindfold eye.

For right is right, since God is God;
And right the day must win;
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin.

-Frederic William Faber.

THIS is a picture of a small old church in Wales. It stands in a valley among the mountains, with very few houses near it, and is very likely more than a thousand years old, for the stone walls are very thick and strong.

You ought to know that the good news of the gospel was known and loved in England long before popish priests from Rome came to our country. Many of the people did not like these new comers, for they did all they could to persuade the king to make the people submit to be papists. But they would not, and ran away into Wales, where they had to suffer great hardships for want of food, and clothing, and houses. But this was not all, for soldiers were sent after them to hunt them out and kill them; and they did kill hundreds of them.

This was both wicked and cruel; but the Roman papists have done many such cruel and wicked things, and they would do the same again if they had the power. Now, at this time, they will not let the people have the Bible if they can hinder them. And yet these papists profess to be Christians. Jesus Christ said, "Search the scriptures." God gave us the Bible to shew us the way of salvation, and it must be a great sin for any man to say you shall not have it. In the judgment day I would not be in that man's place for all the world. God loves us all, and has given us His book to tell us so; and we ought to read it and love it for His sake.

ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

Anecdotes and Selections.

POWER OF A SWEET VOICE.-There is no power of love so hard to get and keep as a kind voice. A kind hand is deaf and dumb. It may be rough in flesh and blood, yet do the work of a soft heart, and do it with a soft touch. But there is no one thing that love so much needs as a sweet voice to tell what it means and feels; and it is hard to get and keep it in the right tone. One must start in youth, and be on the watch night and day, at work and play, to get and keep a voice that shall speak at all times the thoughts of a kind heart. But this is the time when a sharp voice is most apt to be got. You often hear boys and girls say words at play with a quick, sharp tone as if it were the snap of a whip. When one of them gets vexed you will hear a voice that sounds as if it were made up of a snarl, a whine, and a bark. Such a voice often speaks worse than the heart feels. It shows more ill-will in the tone than in the words. It is often in mirth that one gets a voice or a tone that is sharp, and sticks to him through life, and stirs up ill-will and grief, and falls like a drop of gall on the sweet joys at home. Such as these get a sharp home voice for use, and keep their best voice for those they meet elsewhere, just as they would save their best cakes and pies for guests, and all their sour food for their own board. I would say to all boys and girls, "Use your guest voice at home." Watch it day by day as a pearl of great price, for it will be worth more to you in days to come than the best pearls hid in the sea. A kind voice is a lark's song to a hearth and home. It is to the heart what light is to the eye. It is a light that sings as well as shines. Train it to sweet tones now, and it will keep in tune through life.

SATURDAY NIGHT IN CORNWALL.-Perhaps there is no county in England where the influence of the "weekly rest-day" is more valued than in Cornwall. To the thousands of Cornish fishermen Saturday night brings many a home joy. The children look out on the beach for the return of their "father," and rejoice to run by his side to the cottage, where the wife has the welcome meal ready for the hardhanded bread-winner. "You can always tell a Cornish fishing boat," said the Rev. Mr. Windle, of Kingstown, in Ireland, to us a few years ago. "In what way?" we inquired, "Oh, the Cornishmen never fish on Sundays. Their boats are smarter than any other boats, and the men in their Sunday dress crowd to the Mariner's church during the fishing season. It does my heart good to see those worthy men from Cornwall.-The British Workman.

LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOURS.-Love to our neighbour assumes divers forms: (1) In a family, it is tenderness and care; (2) in a neighbourhood, courtesy; (3) in friendship, sympathy; (4) in business, integrity; (5) in distress, mercy; (6) to our country, patriotism; (7) to the world, benevolence; (8) to the church, brotherly kindness.

THE FIRESIDE.-NOTES AND QUERIES.

The Fireside.

saw a young child only about three months old when prepared for the night, wearing a diaper composed of an old bed quilt, this was doubled twice, or so as to form four folds, and placed inside a linen one which was drawn very tight around the hips and pined. Upon remonstrating with the mother

INFANT DEFORMITIES.-We are very sorry that we cannot agree with the learned English physician in regard to this matter, but with all due respect for his superior wisdom in other respects, we are obliged to acknowledge that he seems to be greatly in error upon this subject at least. We think that any thoughtful and intelligent for such cruelty to her child, she mother will say at once that the cause of the deformity called bow-legs or knock-knees is due directly or indirectly to the improper adjustment of the child's linen rather than to any predisposition the little one may have for rubbing the soles of the feet together. The pernicious habit that some mothers have of crowding two or three and sometimes even four folded napkins or diapers between a child's legs is simply barbarous, and this we have often seen done. In one instance we

quickly asked in astonishment, "Do you suppose that I am going to have my good bed spoiled by having that child wetting it every night?" When we come to think of a child being kept almost constantly in such a position as that for several months, and that too at a time the bones and tissues are so easily misplaced, is it any wonder that the child should be deformed? Nay, we often wonder that they are ever able to walk at all. A MOTHER.

Notes and Queries.

L. T. L.-The "exodus" which He should accomplish at Jerusalem, is the literal translation. The phrase is noteworthy. Peter afterwards uses it when speaking of his own departure. It points to the fact that death is an exit, not an extinction.

J. S.-Not necessarily. There are several ways in which it may be taken. N. T. B.-Gallio was called "the agreeable Gallio," was brother to Seneca, and, like Seneca, was murdered by order of Nero.

B. Y. F.-It is too much the habit, we confess, to overlook the aspect you mention: but is it not a reaction from the overstatement on the subject once

so common?

M. B.-It is one of the many instances of the disadvantage to the