deceived. At first the boy did not notice that his plans were successful, so glad was he to escape punishment; and he thanked God that he had found means to do so. But this I must say, that he only lied when lying saved him from a thrashing.

Old Stilling looked on quietly at all this. He never criticised his son's strict mode of life; but at times he would smile and shake his grey head when he saw Wilhelm take up his rod because the boy had eaten or done something which was forbidden. But after the child had left the room, he would say

Wilhelm, those who do not wish their commands to be disregarded should not command too much. Every one likes liberty."

"Yes," said Wilhelm; "but then the boy would become selfwilled."

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When he is going to do wrong," answered the old man, “stop him and explain the reason to him. But when But when you have previously forbidden him, he forgets your numberless commands and prohibitions and does wrong, and you have to keep your promise to punish him, and so there is nothing but blows."

Wilhelm recognised the truth of his father's remarks, and allowed most of his rules to fall into oblivion; he no longer ruled according to law, but quite despotically; he always gave his orders when necessary, and judged according to the circumstances; the boy was no longer punished so frequently as hitherto, and his life became more cheerful and independent.

Thus strangely was Henrich Stilling brought up, entirely without intercourse with other people; so that he knew nothing of the world, nothing of vice, nothing of deceit and self-will. His occupation was praying, reading, and writing. His mind was not occupied with many things, but all that was in it was so vivid, so clear, and so refined and ennobled, that his expressions, speeches, and acts are indescribable. All the family were astonished at the boy, and old Stilling often said, "The youngster flies away from us. His wings are larger than have ever been those of others of our circle; and we must pray God that He will govern him with His good Spirit." All the neighbours who came to Stilling's house and saw the boy were astonished at him, for they did not understand anything he said, although he spoke good German.

One day came neighbour Stähler, who wanted Wilhelm to make him a vest, but whose main object was to dispose of his daughter Molly, for Stilling was much respected in the village, and Wilhelm was pious and diligent. Little Henry might be about eight years old; he sat on a stool reading a book, looking very grave as usual, and I don't believe that up to this time he had ever laughed heartily. Stähler looked at him, and said

"Henry, what are you doing there?"

"I am reading."

"Can you read already?"

Henry looked at him astonished, and said, "That is a stupid question; I am a human being!"

Then he began to read out loud with fluency, proper emphasis, and discrimination. Stähler was thunderstruck, and shouted out"May the devil fly away with me! I have never seen anything like that in all my days."

Henry sprang up trembling at this oath, and gazed fearfully around; but not seeing the enemy, he cried out, "Oh God, how gracious art thou!" then, going up to Stähler, he said—“ Man, have you seen the devil ?"

"No!" replied Stähler.

"Then do not call him again!" retorted the boy, and left the

room.

The boy's fame extended far and wide; everybody talked about him, and was astonished at his knowledge. Even Pastor Stollbein was curious to see him. Now, Henry had never been to church, and, therefore, had never seen a man with a large peruke and a fine black coat. The pastor came to Tiefenbach, and, perhaps, because he had first gone to another house, his arrival in the village was soon heard of at Stilling's, as well as the object of his visit; so Wilhelm instructed his son how to behave himself when the pastor should come. At length he arrived, and old Stilling with him. Henry stood upright against the wall, like a soldier presenting arms. He held in his folded hands his cap, made of pieces of gray and blue cloth, and stared fixedly at the pastor. After Herr Stollbein had sat down, and had exchanged a few words with Wilhelm, he turned towards the wall, and said, "Good morning, Henry."

"People say good morning as soon as they come into a room." Stollbein saw with whom he had to deal, so he turned his chair round towards him, and continued, "Do you know the Catechism?" "Not all of it, as yet.

"What! not all of it yet? That is the first thing children must learn."

"No, pastor, that is not the first thing. Children must first learn to pray that God may give them understanding to comprehend the Catechism."

Herr Stollbein was already seriously angry, and was meditating a severe sermon for Wilhelm; but this reply staggered him.

"How do you pray, then ?" he inquired.

"I pray,

read.'

'Dear God, give me understanding to know what I

"That's right, my son.

Continue so to pray."

"You are not my father."

"I am your spiritual father."

No, God is my spiritual father. You are a human being; a human being cannot be a spirit."

"What! have you no spirit-no soul, then?"

"Yes, indeed. How can you ask such a stupid question? But

I know my father."

"Do you know God, your spiritual father?"

Henrich smiled.

"Ought not a human being to know God?" he asked.

But you cannot see Him."

"Henrich said not a word; but fetching his well-thumbed Bible, pointed out to the pastor the text, Romans i. 19, 20. "Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them. For as the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse. Stollbein had now heard enough. He told the boy he might go; and said to his father

Your child will excel all his forefathers. Continue to keep him well under control. The youngster will be a great man in the world!"

CHRISTMAS ON THE ICE,

AN INTERESTING EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF ADELAIDE SIMMONS.

Time-Christmas week.-Place, on and about Teme Pool, Shropshire-HeroineAdelaide Simmons, Spinster.-Hero, Augustus Brown, Bachelor.-Other persons represented, Brother to Adelaide Simmons, friends, etc.

"I DON'T at all understand my ancle," quoth Adelaide Simmons, plaintively, and eyeing her foot with no little anxiety.

"Hang your ancle you've strained a sinew or something, with that blessed outside-edge '-come along!"

So cried brother Jack-I think unfeelingly. He swung his skates round his neck, picked up the luncheon-basket, and repeating "Come along" was followed out of doors by his two relatives, the fair Adelaide and that conceited youngster, Will. I never liked the boy. He could read the Bible at four years old, was always top of his class at school, and now, at sixteen, passed for Woolwich. For all that, which was a drawback certainly, the Simmons's were popular people. Jack was really a "finished " flirt at twenty and in the 'Varsity boat; while Adelaide-ah! me, she is my heroine, so I must begin a new paragraph over her and her charms.

Well, she was twenty-three; she was clever, inasmuch as she had passed a Cambridge local examination for women, and all that sort of thing. She was small, compact, and well-made, could walk miles without any fatigue, and was the best dancer in the county. Pretty? No; I distinctly affirm that Adelaide Simmons was not pretty; but the popularity of that girl, the way she interested people, the way she did everything,-all I can say is, Adelaide Simmons could have married scores of times if she had chosen ; but, somehow, she always backed out of matrimony; and so, on a frosty morning the last Christmas week, started, a single woman, with her two brothers, skates, and luncheon, for the Teme Pool.

"Ice bears like fun!" sang out Will, executing a stampede to warm his feet, and coming down on the treacherous surface.

"Get up, as quick as you can," said Miss Simmons; "for I want my skates put on." She beheld an outside-edge backwards' coming fatally nearer.

"Wait till old What's-his-name tumbles into that snow-heap and looks this way, then you can nail him," said the obnoxious boy.

"Up with your foot," interrupted Jack, shoving him aside,

and with that scant ceremony peculiar to brothers grasping the well-laced boot, screwing, buckling, strapping, a sure but rough help up, and Adelaide Simmons was round the pool and back again before you could say Jack Robinson.

She, wise young woman that she was knew, this rapid skim brought the colour back to her cheeks, which had ebbed in the chilly operation of getting under weigh.

"Now, I'll say good-morning to Guss Brown," she remarked, and held out her hand to that gentleman, who grasped it with fervour and said, "it was cold."

"Do you really think so?" she replied. There was malice in her tone, and he knew it.

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'Hang it how is it all my ideas go out of my head when I see that girl?" he murmured to himself-naturally to himself, for he was the last man in the world to admit to any one else that any girl had ever had, or ever would have, any effect upon him, in the way of ideas or otherwise. Why, my good reader, he was a rising barrister, had been under the fire of a hundred eyes and always came out unscathed. "Addie Simmons is a very nice girl," he would wind-up his cogitations with, on dropping off to sleep; "but—” he never got farther than that but,' then think what a meaning 'but' it was-how it signified that he, Augustus Brown, was not such a fool as he looked. "Addie Simmons is a very nice girlbut I have not quite forgotten how the honourable Margaret Molyneux blushed up to her eyes when I asked her if she had kept a corner of her programme for me."

Still, it was very odd, but his ideas always went out of his head when Miss Simmons made a remark to him.

'Hullo, Brown," said Will, skating up, shod at last by a wellpaid cad, "I say, I've got the dodge of that three at last," and in illustration, began a grotesque performance, whereat, the wellpaid cad grinned. In another minute he was gratuitously helping the young gentleman to his feet again.

It was really very pretty to see Miss Simmons here and there and everywhere, her easy strides carrying her in and out without any apparent effort, and her face showing downright enjoyment. Everybody seemed to think so, and watched her with an air of contentment. There was no wearisome "teaching" and "helping," in connection with her; the only difficulty was to waylay her, and when found to be sure of her. She agreed with Augustus Brown that it was cold, and next minute was assuring the brothers Jones that it was warm-she feared, a thaw.

"I must say I anticipate snow," said a very emphatic young person of the 'slow' persuasion, who had great difficulty in getting any one to converse even on the weather with her.