request, he was removed to Abbotsford. The Voyage to Scotland was made in a state of almost total unconsciousness. On approaching in his carriage the dear and familiar spots near his estate, his mind revived a little; and, after a night's rest under his own roof, a more distinct consciousness returned. He was wheeled about the grounds and then through the rooms.

"I have seen much," he kept saying, "but nothing like my ain house—give me one turn more."

Next morning he was better still, and expressed a wish that his son-in-law should read to him.

"When I asked from what book, he said, 'Need you ask? There is but one.' I chose the 14th chapter of St. John's Gospel. He listened with mild devotion, and said when I had done, 'Well, this is a great comfort. I have followed you distinctly, and I feel as if I were yet to be myself again.' More than once, too, he listened with interest to once familiar passages from his favourite poet Crabbe; but he heard them as if they were novelties, while he seemed to have a vivid recollection of whatever was read from the Bible."

We may here mention that about thirteen years before, in 1819, when he thought himself dying, Lockhart tells us- -"But I must not forget to set down what his daughter Sophia afterwards told me of his conduct upon one night in June, when he really did despair of himself. He then called his children about his bed, and took leave of them with solemn tenderness. After giving them one by one such advice as suited their years and characters, he added-' For myself, my dears, I am unconscious of ever having done any man an injury, or omitted

any fair opportunity of doing any man a benefit.* I well know that no human life can appear otherwise than weak and filthy in the eyes of God: but I rely on the merits and intercession of our Redeemer.' He then laid his hand on their heads, and said, 'God bless you! Live so that you may all hope to meet each other in a better place hereafter. And now leave me, that I may turn my face to the wall.' They obeyed him; but he presently fell into a deep sleep; and when he awoke from it after many hours, the crisis of extreme danger was felt by himself, and pronounced by his physician, to have been overcome."

The closing scene when there could be no longer a respite, and the hour was at hand that the "silver cord" must be loosed, and the "golden bowl" be broken, is thus described by his biographer.

"As I was dressing on the morning of Monday, the 17th of September, Nicolson came into my room and told me that his master had awoke in a state of composure and consciousness, and wished to see me immediately. I found him entirely himself, though in the last extreme of feebleness. His eye was clear and calm, every trace of the wild fire of delirium extinguished. 'Lockhart,' he said, 'I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man; be virtuous, be religious, be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.' He paused, and I said, 'Shall I send for Sophia and Anne ?' 'No,' said he; 'don't disturb them, poor souls! I know they were up all night. God bless you all.' With this he sank into a very tranquil sleep, and indeed he scarcely afterwards gave any sign of con sciousness, except for an instant, on the

.

arrival of his sons. About halfpast one P.M. on the 21st of September, Sir Walter breathed his last in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day-so warm, that every window was wide open; and so perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed; and his eldest son kissed and closed

his eyes. No sculptor ever modelled a more majestic image of repose."

We can but add, would that the light which thus shone "at evening tide" upon the path of the pilgrim through "the valley of the shadow of death" had equally illumined his life's journey in the earlier days of prosperity, and cheered him more fully with the sweet promise of "the Christian's best in its later stages of trial and adversity!

HE celebration of the centenary of Sir Walter Scott recalls that of his companion bard, the gifted, but in many respects unhappy, Burns, in 1869. That in the matter of religion Burns "saw the better, and yet the worse pursued," must ever be a painful memory to the admirers of his genius; but it is at least a satisfaction to throw the weight of his testimony for truth into the scale, to lessen as far as we may the influence of his example. However familiar, the following verses from the "Cottar's Saturday Night" will ever be read with untiring interest. Burns knew well that the secret of a nation's greatness is to be found in the pious home. Would that all his poems had breathed a spirit in harmony with this exquisite picture of cottage life!—ED. O.O.F.

THE cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,
They, round the ingle, form a circle wide:
The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,
The big ha'-Bible, ance his father's pride:
His bonnet reverently is laid aside,

His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.

They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim;

Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise,
Or plaintiff Martyrs, worthy of the name;
Or noble Elgin beets the heavenward flame,

The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays: Compared with these, Italian trills are tame;

The tickled ear no heart-felt raptures raise: Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise. Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days: There ever bask in uncrcated rays,

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,
Together hymning their Creator's praise,
In such society, yet still more dear:
While circling time moves round in an eternal
sphere.

Then homeward all take off their several way;
The youngling cottagers retire to rest;
The parent pair their secret homage pay,

And proffer up to heaven the warm request, That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest, And decks the lily fair in flowery pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,

For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with grace Divine preside.

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!

From whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent!

Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

And, O! may Heaven their simple lives prevent
From luxury's contagion, weak and vile!
Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,
A virtuous populace may rise the while,
And stand a wall of fire around their much-
loved isle.

HE Bible is the teacher's model textbook. God's way of teaching must be the simplest and the best way. And perhaps the most prominent feature of God's way of teaching in the Bible is the almost unvarying combination of example and precept which it presents.

Biography is a volume with many leaves; and each leaf has its peculiar lesson. Hence this biographical feature of the Bible especially adapts it to the instruction of all. Every reader may find in this wonderful Book, reflected as in a mirror, a faithful protraiture of himself, sufficiently vivid and clearly defined, in every main point, to convey to him personally the needed word of promise or precept, of encouragement or warning.

On referring to the Scripture passages which embrace all that is recorded of St. Andrew, I think the lessons of his life may be seen to possess a particular application to Sundayschool Teachers. I say a particular application, because in their general bearing these lessons no doubt apply to all who are engaged in Christian work. In endeavouring to present these lessons, I will confine myself to four leading remarks.

I. St. Andrew furnishes an example of a teacher called from the ranks of the sons of toil.

We know nothing of his ancestry beyond the fact that he was of humble birth. Clearly he was not brought up at the feet of any Gamaliel. The education he received, in days when books were parchment rolls, must have been exceedingly limited. Moreover, his father, Jona, required his early help in prosecuting his trade as a fisherman-no easy vocation, often involving night labour ("We have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing"), and attended with the ordinary perils and dangers of the deep.

Under these circumstances, however, Andrew made progress; and we may conclude that the discipline of early toil helped in no slight degree to mould and form the future character of the man. Certainly the occupation of a fisherman did not unfit him for the higher toil to which he was afterwards called. On the contrary, our

Lord, by the very terms of his call to be "a fisher of men," taught him to regard his fisher's craft as a striking prophetic symbol of his apostolic ministry. A striking symbol, indeed, it was not likely to be forgotten by Andrew in future years, in its connection with the profitless toil, and the miraculous draught of fishes, on that eventful night spent on the Lake of Gennesaret.

Not to dwell on the symbolic teaching sug gested by the various handicrafts of labour, Andrew's call as a fisherman impresses upon us the dignity of labour in every lawful occupation. By God's express appointment, "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening." God hath "given to every man his work." Work, therefore, in any honest vocation, is worthy of all honour. It is sad to hear the drones in the social hive indulge in reflections on those who, in a humbler station, are living a far nobler life. The pride which professes to look down upon trade would be ready to look down upon the Apostles and the Master Himself.

Whilst thankfully recognising amongst our teachers those who " after the flesh" are "wise,” and "mighty," and "noble," it is the glory of our Sunday schools that many of our most devoted and efficient teachers, like Andrew, are volunteers from the ranks of the toilers in the busiest marts of life. Instead of urging their week-day toil as a ground of excuse for rest, they seem to derive an added impulse from it to serve their God by special labour on the Lord's Day. What a reproof is conveyed by their noble example to some in higher positions, who waste their entrusted talents on the week-day, and on the Lord's Day as well, closely imitating in their manner of life the class reproved by St. Paul, who "learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busy-bodies, speaking things which they ought not."

But, taking the wider application of this lesson, every Christian has his work-his work in the world as a member of society, and his spiritual work for Christ as a member of His Church. Let it be our aim to ennoble our

station, whatever it be. We may ennoble the humblest worldly calling;

"If done to obey Thy laws,

E'en servile labours shine:
Hallowed is toil if this the cause,
The meanest work Divine."

HERBERT.

And, assuredly, if we ennoble our worldly calling,-if we connect God with our "business," our daily work, we shall never be slow to respond to special calls to what is more distinctively understood to be spiritual work. "Fervent in business," if that business is kept in its proper place, we shall the better "serve the Lord." As with Andrew, our business will never hinder, but rather fit us for, and perhaps stimulate us to undertake, special work for God.

II. St. Andrew, whilst filling his humble position in life, was a diligent student of the Holy Scriptures.

We infer this from the evidently prepared state of his mind leading him to recognise Jesus as the Messias. (John i. 35-42.) Doubtless he had been instructed, as a child, in the Holy Scriptures by parents who, like Simeon and Anna, "waited for the consolation of Israel." In the absence of contrary testimony, we are bound to believe this; for the records of religious biography fully establish the fact that pious children, as a rule, have pious parents: God "showing mercy unto thousands in them that love Him and keep His commandments." The favoured Samuel is the son of the praying Hannah. The young evangelist Timothy is the child of the believing Eunice; and Eunice again, is the daughter of the like-minded Lois. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, is the God of Joseph also. And, to give one modern instance, the first martyr in the days of bloody Mary, John Rogers, is still represented by honourable and Christian descendants in this country: and in the United States, where his children's children have reached the eleventh generation, it has been remarked that few families contain so many pious members; and singularly enough, with one intermission, the eldest son has always been a minister.

Andrew's acquaintance with the Scriptures must have been considerable, and it was clearly evangelical. He had not "made the Word of God of none effect "-robbed it of its power to "convert the soul," "make wise the simple,"

"enlighten the eyes (Ps. xix. 7, 8), by listening to and heeding the traditions of the Scribes and Pharisees-the Romanists of those days. As a disciple of John the Baptist, he had looked at Divine truth in its Gospel aspect, as it was presented to spiritually-taught Israelites. I say, its Gospel aspect, for it is manifest, from the remarkable testimony borne by the Baptist to Jesus,-"Behold the Lamb of God,"-that to him, as the percursor of Christ, "the Law was the Gospel predicted," as to us "the Gospel is the Law fulfilled;" and, without attempting to be "wise above what is written," we know enough to satisfy us that the virtue of atoning blood, in its typical significancy, was a familiar truth to the Jewish mind; and we doubt not that faith in the Christ to come wrought effectually for and in them, as faith in the Christ who has come now works for and in us. "The Old Testament is not contrary to the New; for, both in the Old and New Testament, everlasting life is offered to mankind by Christ, who is the only mediator between God and man. Wherefore they are not to be heard which feign that the old fathers did look only for transitory promises." (Article vii.) To Andrew, assuredly, the Scriptures of the Old Testament had testified of Christ, and from them he learned to identify the Messias with the "Lamb of God"-the antitype of those "sacrifices many," with which, in the Jewish worship, he was so familiar.

Andrew's example thus admonishes every teacher to be a student of the Book. "Mighty in the Scriptures" is the qualification to be aimed at as of paramount importance. No teacher can ever exhaust the supply of material for his work to be found in this Book. Those who have made it the study of a lifetime, confess there are depths they have never fathomed, heights they have never explored. Andrew's brother, Peter, a fisherman like himself, wrote, as an inspired man, a short treatise, so replete with heavenly truth, that Archbishop Leighton, whom Dr. Doddridge calls "that wonderful man," employed years of intense and delighted labour in illustrating and expounding the rich and heart-affecting lessons it contains. And the Epistles of St. Peter form no exceptional part of the Sacred Volume. A distinguished infidel, when once asked, "How it was that the Bible is so far superior to all other books, that it can be read over and over a thousand times, and still retain all its freshness ?" and "Why

no other book like it was ever written ?" replied "Because there is not room in the world for two such books."

When a teacher's interest begins to fail in the study of the Scriptures, his unfitness for his work will soon be apparent, to others if not to himself. Nothing can be a substitute for the Bible. If the teacher would be "thoroughly furnished" for his work, let the histories, biographies, prophecies, precepts, doctrines, and promises of God's Book be "familiar in his mouth as household words." And let him remember always that the knowledge of the Bible which he needs is not of "the letter" only, but of "the spirit." The key of the Old Testament, unlocking and revealing to John the Baptist, and to Andrew his disciple, its spiritual teaching, was the unity of its testimony to Christ-" Behold the Lamb of God." And so still; the evidence that the "understanding" of the reader has been really "opened to understand the Scriptures," is found in His recognition of the fulfilment of "all things which are written" in those Scriptures "concerning Christ. (St. Luke xxiv. 27, 44, 45.)

III. St. Andrew's example commends to teachers the exercise of Christian self-denial in their work.

There must have been self-denial from the first. Not without an effort could the fisherman's son secure the needed leisure from his laborious occupation for the pursuit of knowledge. He had none of the common inducements which now stimulate the scholar's emulation, and incite him to strenuous effort. To reach the teacher from whom he learnt the most, fatigue and danger had to be incurred in journeying to him in the wilderness.

The after self-denial involved in the profession of discipleship to the despised Nazarene is not easily estimated by us. The brothers, Peter and Andrew, were, no doubt, joint owners of the boat from which the Saviour preached to the people on the occasion of their call to become "fishers of men." The sacrifice of their mutual property was something. They "left all." True, that all was but little,-a boat, a fisherman's net, a hut; but it was their "all." Then there were home ties and associations. Their father lived there, and their kindred. The fisherman's life had been their life from youth; the world was unknown to them; and the companionship of Jesus, in an earthly

point of view, could only lead to a life of privation, vexation, and contradiction. The Baptist was already in prison, and his martyr. dom quickly followed,―a premonition of what might soon overtake themselves. How necessary it was to count the cost of discipleship in order to abide by it, we may judge from the Master's reproof of the impulsive professor, who fancied himself ready to follow Him "whithersoever" he went: "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay His head” (Luke ix. 57, 58).

To self-denial of this extreme character teachers cannot now be called. But the Cross, in some shape, has still to be taken up by every spiritual worker. In one point-the teacher's attainment of knowledge-there is frequently a very close analogy to Andrew's experience. If in early life Andrew acquired knowledge with difficulty, it is also true that the mental preparation necessary for effective teaching in the Sunday school is not attained by teachers who are pressed with the claims and engagements of business avocations with out much self-denying labour. I have heard of a calculation which represents the value of the Sunday school labour of the 300,000 teachers in our land, supposing for a moment such labours could be remunerated with money, as equalling £75,000 annually,-half the income of our Church Missionary Society! There are some who can only understand selfdenial when they see a pecuniary sacrifice. To such, this calculation may at least be suggestive of our national obligations to the noble band of voluntary labourers in the Lord's vineyard, who, like Araunah, do not offer that "which costs them nothing."

But it is needless to say the self-denial of the Christian teacher is of a far higher nature than that represented by a mere money sacrifice. The resistance of the inclination, so natura. after six days' close confinement, to seek personal rest and refreshment for body, mind, and spirit, must be attended with no little difficulty; and the trial of patience, and kindness, and perseverance, added to the spiritus! anxiety inseparable from the teacher's charge, must often demand the exercise of a resolute purpose to prevent weariness in well-doing. Every faithful teacher knows there is a Cross in his work. He would not shrink from it; but he feels it; and sometimes “the hands