she is worse than fatherless-does not lose sight of his own. There, take heart, depend upon it all will yet be well." The dame, who had great confidence in her son's judgment, felt somewhat reassured. Soon afterwards they separated for the night, eager for the quiet of their respective rooms, and where, unknown to each other, in a few moments, they were supplicating the Giver of every good and perfect gift, that He would vouchsafe to the little motherless patient, far away in a London hospital, a speedy issue out of all her sufferings, and a restoration of that health to which she had so long been a stranger. Next day, when mother and son met at breakfast, they both looked calmer; and when, in the course of the evening, a letter came from Ben's aunt in town (who had undertaken to watch over the child) to say she was getting on even better than could have been hoped for, their joy hardly knew any bounds. But to return to ourselves. The attentions we met at the hands of our friend were most constant, and so we all prospered. One day he said to his mother, "These birds are frisking about a good deal, and take to the perch very kindly, I shouldn't wonder but they'd make a bit of a fly if they got the chance. Shut the doors, and we'll see." This being done, the cage was opened, and after a little hesitation one of my brothers hopped to the edge of the outlet, but did not seem to fancy making a start. Naturally of a somewhat mischievous turn, I could not resist the temptation to give him a push from behind. Out he tumbled, and so suddenly, that I went head foremost after him. The rest followed, and in an instant we were all fluttering and floundering in glorious confusion, though the sensation of being on the wing was delightful. After careering for a short time, my sisters found their way to the window-sash; my brothers to the tower of the card castle, like warders on the watch; while I somewhat ignominiously, terminated my first flight in the coal-scuttle. When Ben thought it time to secure us, he took the others easily enough. To catch me, was another thing, however. A dozen times I eluded his grasp, and when the dame forgetfully attempted to quit the room, I was out before her, though only to find myself in a kind of washhouse. Our friend, laughing heartily at my ineffectual attempts to escape, luckily followed, for I had barely rested my feet on the edge of a clothes-horse which hung on the wall, when a savage creature, such as I had never seen before, with glaring eyes, and dreadful teeth, and shocking claws, dashed from under the stairs and caught me by the wing. In one second I should have lost my life, but before that second could expire our brave friend had the creature by the neck, and I was released. After smoothing my feathers and examining my limbs, one of which was much hurt, he returned me to the cage, and glad enough was In less than a month from the performing of the operation, Kitty Croft was brought back quite a new being. No limp now, and a healthy blush upon her cheek. Oh, how gladly she flew into the open arms of Ben, and how heartily he hugged her to his broad strong chest, and how lovingly the dame received her. If she had been the pedlar's own sister and the dame's own child, they could not have shown more affection. Kitty was glad to find us so much improved, and at the risk of being thought vain, I will repeat the very words she uttered on beholding us. "Oh! how beautiful they are," cried she; "but this one," that was myself, "is lovelier than any." The weather being all that could be desired, so soon as dinner was over the cage was carried to the front door, and Ben tenderly took my relatives one by one, tossed them into the air, and away they flew. But for me, as I had feared, I should never be able to fly sufficiently well to be set adrift. I moped a bit at first, and could not take any food, but being young and, excepting my right wing and left leg, perfectly sound, soon recovered my spirits. It was quite natural that Kitty, although her father had been so unkind and neglectful, should feel desirous for his welfare, and anxious to know how he was getting on in prison. Ben made inquiries, but gleaned little information. He would have taken his charge to the gaol and sought an interview had he dared, but he knew no good would result from such a proceeding. A letter from the child must carry a statement of where she was living, and that would never do. Better not to break in upon him. The village schoolmaster had called to see him after his wife's death, only to be repulsed. Croft's message was that he knew all about it. He had heard of his wife's death, and that his daughter was to be sent to the workhouse, and he wanted nobody to come there and see him in his degradation, least of all his only child. The six months' imprisonment at length expired, and it was with some anxiety that Ben, the dame, and Kitty awaited a visit from the released. Ben was ready once more to aid his old friend if he would only make an effort in the right direction, in spite of past injustice. One, two, three days came and went, but no Peter Croft. A week passed away, and still no sign. One very dull, wet evening, as the pedlar was sitting all alone cosily enough in his own chimney "THE QUIVER" BIBLE CLASS. 175 On the wings of sincerity it had flown to heaven, and strength and hope had been showered upon the contrite heart. Thus had he come to take a very different revenge to that he had intended. corner, reading a book of travels that he had bor-merciful to me a sinner," was not uttered in vain. rowed from the Mutual Improvement Society library, he heard a heavy foot pause at his cottage door. He looked up, as the latch rose and fell. A tall, thin, pale-faced man, leaning on a stout oaken cudgel, entered. His face looked careworn, but determined. He paused as he crossed the threshold, closed the door, and then eyed the pedlar steadily. The latter returned his gaze for a second or two, and then suddenly cried out, What, Peter Croft! Why, I did not know you!" "How should you?” replied the other; "I went from here a stout strong man, and now what am I?" "Oh, Peter, Peter!" moaned the pedlar. The returned felon remained immovable; but continued in calm, decided tones: "When last we met it was at the assizes, and I then told you that we should meet again, and when we did so I would have my revenge." The master of the house had risen from his seat, as if expecting an attack. "I am here," continued the speaker, "to redeem my word; to take a revenge such as you deserve. I am here to beg forgiveness for the great wrong I have done you, and to bless and thank you for the mercy you have shown your avowed enemy." The wretched man sank into a chair, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed bitterly. While Ben was standing over him, speaking words of consolation, a hurried step upon the stair was followed by Kitty running into the room. "My dear-dear child!" exclaimed her father, catching her greedily to his embrace. Some weeks after this event Kitty, her father, and myself bade adieu to the dear old dame and her noble-hearted son. Peter Croft had taken a passage for a distant land, where he hoped to see his child grow into a woman; and where, removed from the temptation of old associates, he trusted with Divine help to, in some degree, make amends for the past. (To be continued). 71. Two kings in the Old Testament unwittingly pronounced judgment on themselves. Name them. 72. We read of two persons who were so altered by time or circumstances as not to be recognised by their most intimate friends and relations. Who were they? 73. A promise of Christ to his apostles obviated the necessity for recording the events of his life at the time when they occurred. Give it. 74. There are three instances recorded in tho a window. Give them. 75. The wicked deeds of one of the kings of Judah are ascribed to the training he received from his mother. Give his name. ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 143. 55. "Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God ?" (Luke xii. 6.) 56. Deut. x. 16; xxx. 6; and Jer. iv. 4. Peter Croft had-it transpired-after quitting prison, spent a whole week in London trying, but without success, to obtain employment, that he Bible where escape from enemies is effected through might fetch his daughter, as he imagined, from the workhouse, and give her a home again. More angry than ever with the man whom he believed to be in some measure the cause of his imprisonment, he had come down to the village firmly resolved to do him personal injury. Several things were thought of, and finally setting fire to the pedlar's cottage determined on. When it was quite dark he approached the house to see how he could best carry out his design. Suddenly the voice of his own child falls on his ear. He peeps through a chink in the shutter; and there, sure enough, smiling and blooming, and neatly clad, sitting beside the old dame, he beholds that little 58. In the history of the Flood (Gen. vii. 4). one whom six months ago he had left behind a help- Moses in the mount before the giving of the law less invalid. Casting aside the match as it had been (Exod. xxiv. 18; xxxiv. 28). The time of the spies a serpent, he had gone into the village and learned in searching the land (Numb. xiii. 25; xiv. 34). all. Now could he see how wickedly he had acted The time of Elijah in coming to Horeb (1 Kings xix. towards his best and truest friend. Good for evil! 8). The time of probation for Nineveh (Jonah iii. 4). love for hate! and this from the man whom he would 59. Forty days elapsed before his presentation in have injured to any extent. His heart smote within the Temple (Luke ii. 22). Forty days after his baphim. The blood of his friend and child too might tism he entered on his public ministry (Matt. iv. have been on his head. The simple utterance of the 2). Forty days after his resurrection he ascended poor publican found its way to his lips. "God be (Acts i. 3). 57. The confirmation of the baptised converts in Samaria (Acts viii. 14). BIBLE NOTES. THE CURING THE DEMONIAC (Matt. viii. 28-34; Mark v. 1-20; Luke viii. 26-39.) T. MARK and St. Luke speak of only to do evil. "I adjure thee by God, that thou torone demoniac, whereas St. Matthew ment me not." Torture me not by making me cease mentions two. The probable explana- to cause agony to this man; for in torturing others tion is that one was more prominent is my delight. This is a true, vivid picture of the than the other-perhaps acted as devil nature. And what more awful thought of hell spokesman for both-and therefore the latter two can there be than that it is to be with such, and to evangelists have spoken only of him. be partakers of their nature! And when he went forth to land, there met him out of the city a certain man, which had devils long time, and ware no clothes, neither abode in any house, but in the tombs" (Luke viii. 27). St. Luke mentions the fact that this man had no clothing, and St. Mark does not. It is an evidence of the truthfulness of the two narratives, that though St. Mark omits this fact in the earlier portion of the story, he in the sequel speaks of the man as sitting at Jesus's feet "clothed, and in his right mind." Archbishop Trench, in commenting upon this miracle, gives the following interesting quotation from the work of an Italian physician, speaking of the insane: "A striking and characteristic circumstance is the propensity to go quite naked. The patient tears his clothes to tatters. Notwithstanding his constant exertion of mind and body, the muscular strength of the patient seems daily to increase. He is able to break the strongest bonds, and even chains." This is almost a literal description of the conduct of this man whom Christ healed. The "tombs" of the Jews were sometimes natural caves of great extent, and sometimes extensive excavations, made for the purpose of burial. They were always situated outside the city, and thus naturally became the place of retreat of those who were morbid or insane. St. Mark mentions that this man used to "cut himself." This is a characteristic of maniacs. Pritchard, speaking of one who was the victim of a terrible mania, says: "He habitually wounded his hands, wrists, and arms with needles and pins." "When he saw Jesus, he cried out." He cried out at him for intruding upon what he considered his domain, and where he refused to let others walk, As St. Matthew mentions, he was "exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by that way." His crying out resulted also from his recognising the stronger than himself, who was coming to defeat the devil and deliver the man. This is evident from his subsequent exclamations. "What have I to do with thee, thou Son of the Most High God?" What is there in common between us? Thou art pure and true and sinless; I impure, false, sinful. Thou who delightest in going about doing good, canst have no sympathy or common feeling with me, who live only From St. Luke's account (ver. 29) we find that Christ had actually commenced his contest with the power of the devil. "And Jesus asked him, saying, What is thy name? And he said, Legion: because many devils were entered into him." A legion in the Roman army consisted of from three to eight thousand men and the adoption of this name by the poor man that was possessed gives some idea of the frightful agony he endured-of the extent to which Satan had possessed him, and the complete victory he had obtained over him. "And there was there an herd of many swine feeding on the mountain: and they besought him that he would suffer them to enter into them. And he suffered them.” In keeping this herd of swine the Gadarenes were guilty of a breach of the Mosaic law, which forbade the Jew to defile himself by eating or by tending these animals (see Lev. xi. 8); and in granting the prayer of the devils, our Lord practically condemned in the Gadarenes this departure from the law. For as he himself at another time said, he came not to destroy, but to fulfil the law. Besought him to depart from them." This the Gadarenes did, upon seeing "by what means he that was possessed of the devils was healed." Besides the superstitious fear excited by the sudden cure of the demoniac, there was doubtless a feeling of mor. tification beneath all at the loss of what was very likely a capital "stock-in-trade" of the Gadarenes, From a very different feeling did Simon Peter say, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, ✪ Lord." "Sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind." This subject has been amply treated in a recent paper on The Feet of Jesus." Here we have evidenced the completion of the miracle. The man is sitting at the feet of Jesus, because, and therefore, he is in his right mind. This may be said to be the principal teaching of the miracle. The natural man is possessed with the legion devils of his sins, and is naked in his unrighteousness; but when the great Exorciser comes to him, and against the man's will delivers him, he finds that the most blessed place for him is at Jesus's feet: for why? HE IS IN 13 RIGHT MIND. BY ALTON CLYDE, AUTHOR OF "UNDER FOOT," "JOHN HESKETH'S CHARGE," ETC. ETC. CHAPTER XXXIV.-THE NEW CLAUSE. YRIL CHADBURN did his best to improve the | hoped much in the way of confirming the favourable opportunity thus unexpectedly thrown in his impression which he flattered himself he had made upon the mind of Bessie. From her manner, he was beginning to be sanguine of success, eagerly accept way. The walk to Abbey House was quite long enough to afford him the chance of a tête-à-tête, from which he SOL VIL 327 ing everything that it was possible to interpret as a mark of preference for himself. Nothing was overlooked. He noted every trifling courtesy, and made a mental register of every smile she gave him. He attached considerable significance to the fact of her wearing in her hair a flower that came from Chadburn Court. Poor Phoebe did not know for what she would be responsible when she chose that ornament for her young mistress; nor did Bessie herself guess how far her unaffected girlish frankness was assisting to confirm the gentleman's egotistical estimate of his own powers of pleasing, and his opinion of the influence which he was acquiring over her. The truth was that for the first time in his life Cyril was drifting into an attachment for the adopted daughter of Lewis Darley, to whom he had at first been attracted by local gossip concerning the immense wealth which she was expected to inherit at the old man's death, and whom he had sought simply as the instrument through which he hoped to work out more completely the success of his ambitious plans. Since his last visit he was conscious of new impressions concerning her. She had a piquant freshness and originality that captivated him, though her thoughts and opinions had a flavour of independence that clashed with some of his native prejudices with regard to the proper sphere of woman and the subordinate character of her intellect in comparison with that of man; still, he was pleased; something about her sparkling, intelligent talk took hold of his mind. He often found himself comparing it with the conventional gossip which the Honourable Katherine Appleby had been wont to inflict upon him. Bessie, on her side, could not help but admire Cyril's tall handsome figure, and he was fast becoming her beau-idéal of what a gentleman ought to be. That morning, as Cyril walked by Bessie's side, he consciously surrendered himself to the new fascination, deciding that it needed only a little more extended intercourse with society to make her manner perfection, and correct any little faults of tone and style which she might have contracted in her seclusion. Her beauty and refinement left nothing to be desired, and satisfied the critical exactions of even his fastidious taste. To him she was more charming than ever; he thought he had never seen anything more exquisite in its way than that little straw hat, with its simple wreath of forget-me-nots; and he wondered how it was that ladies like the Applebys, who made dress their constant study, had never to his knowledge managed to achieve such a happy effect, or wear anything half so becoming. that her ladyship will not attempt to oppose my will." While the future baronet was thus playing the agreeable to his fair companion, and reaping a golden harvest of smiles, Lewis Darley was in a state of growing irritation and alarm at Bessie's prolonged absence, now and then making excited rushes to the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of her at the gate, all the time grumbling querulously to himself. Strange that she stays out so long. I wonder what is keeping her. It is so unkind and thoughtless, to say the least of it. But no, I am wronging her. The child takes these walks to please me, and I ought not to be so impatient, but it would make me much easier if she took Phoebe with her. I must try to make her understand that. Ah, there she is at last," he added, as the gate bell rang. In his eagerness he could scarcely refrain from answering it himself; but the next moment he saw Phoebe flying out of the house, the key in one hand and a duster in the other. She evidently did not expect that she was going to open the gate for any one beside her young mistress. When she saw her accompanied by a gentleman, she opened the gate with such a ludicrous air of astonishment and dismay that Bessie could not help feeling amused. Phoebe was not the only member of the household whose equanimity was disturbed by the unexpected appearance of Cyril Chad'surn. The old man had seen from his window the pair standing at the gate, and the sight seemed to have greatly excited him. He violently rang the bell, muttering savagely to himself, "Bless me! that fellow here again, and with her;" and he renewed his ringing with such energy that the old housekeeper almost flew up the stairs. As the astonished housekeeper entered the room he banged the door to, and exclaimed, "No questions, Philis, you've no time for anything but to listen and do as I bid you. Mr. Chadburn is below; he will ask to see me, and you must tell him that I am engaged, and will not see any one; mind that, Philis, I will not see any one. Now go at once, or that daughter of yours will be bringing him up here." With that he closed and locked the door after her, giving vent to his feelings in a very expressive and characteristic growl against the unconscious heir of the Chadburns, who had committed the unpardonable offence of presenting himself at the gate in company with Bessie. His pale calm face caught an unwonted flush of "Now I begin to understand something of the colour as he said, mentally, The miser's jewel truth. I always thought there was another motive must be mine. I knew from the first that it was a for his visits here, and I think I see what is behind prize worth striving for. She was born to queen it that smooth mask. He wants something else beside over the belles of Chesterdale, to queen it as Lady Chadburn Castle; he must have heard that Bessie of Chadburn, and she shall, whatever my mother is to be my heiress, and with all the pride of the may have to say against it; but I have an idea | Chadburns will not refuse a golden bait. Yes, yes, I |