The deacon laid his head on his pillow, and was asleep in a minute. Soon he started up again, and, waking his wife, exclaimed--"There, I heard that voice again--'Send food to John.'"

"Well, well," said Mrs. Brown. "Deacon, you are not well; your supper has not agreed with you. Lie down and try to sleep."

Again the deacon closed his eyes, and again came the voice--"Send food to John." This time the deacon was thoroughly awake. "Wife," said he, "who do we know named John who needs food?"

"No one I remember," replied Mrs. Brown, "unless it be John Barry, the old charcoal-burner on the mountain."

"That's it!" exclaimed the deacon. "Now I remember, when I was at the store in Sheffield the other day, Clark, the merchant, speaking of John Barry, said, 'I wonder if the old man is alive, for it is six weeks since I saw him, and he has not yet laid in his winter stock of groceries.' It must be old John is sick, and wanting food." So saying, the good deacon arose and proceeded to dress himself.

"Come, wife," said he, "wake our boy Willie, and tell him to feed the horses and get ready to go with me; and do you pack up in the two largest baskets you have, a good stock of food, and get us an early breakfast, for I am going up to the mountain to carry the food I know John Barry needs."

Mrs. Brown, accustomed to the sudden impulses of her good husband, and believing him to be always in the right, cheerfully complied, and after a hot breakfast, Deacon Brown and his son Willie, a boy of nineteen, hitched up the horses to the double sleigh, and then, with a month's supply of food, and a "Good-bye, mother," started at five o'clock on that cold December morning for a journey that almost any other than Deacon Brown and his son would not have dared to undertake.

The north-east storm was still raging, and the snow falling and drifting fast; but on, on went the stout, well-fed team on its errand of mercy, while the occupants of the sleigh, wrapped up in blankets and extra buffalo robes, urged the horses through the drifts and in the face of the storm. That ten miles' ride, which required in the summer hardly an hour or two, was not finished until the deacon's watch showed that five hours had pa.s.sed.

At last they drew up in front of the hut where the poor trusting Christian man and woman were on their knees praying for help to Him who is always the Hearer and Answerer of prayer; and as the deacon reached the door, he heard the voice of supplication, and then he knew that the voice which awakened him from sleep was sent from heaven.

He knocked at the door. It was opened; and we can imagine the joy of the old couple when the generous supply of food was carried in, and the thanksgivings that were uttered by the starving tenants of that mountain hut.

"Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will answer thee."--_Lantern._

NEVER think that you can make yourself great by making another less.

ANSWER TO BIBLE ENIGMA.

(_Page 91._)

"_Create in me a clean heart, O G.o.d; renew a right spirit within me._"--PSALM li. 10.

C heba R . Ezekiel i. i.

R om E . Acts xviii. 2.

E glo N . Judges iii. 15.

A x E . Judges ix. 48.

T o W . Isaiah i. 31.

E liad A . 2 Chronicles xvii. 17.

I bha R . 2 Samuel v. 15.

N aphtal I . Genesis x.x.x. 8.

M ago G . 1 Chronicles i. 5.

E leale H . Numbers x.x.xii. 37.

A rara T . Genesis viii. 4.

C epha S . John i. 42.

L am P . Exodus xxvii. 20.

E nged I . 1 Samuel xxiii. 29.

A roe R . Numbers x.x.xii. 34.

N aphtal I . 1 Kings vii. 14.

H arves T . Genesis viii. 22.

E ni W . Proverbs xx. 1.

A bisha I . 1 Chronicles xviii. 12.

R es T . Hebrews iv. 9.

T abera H . Deuteronomy ix. 22.

O mr I . 1 Kings xvi. 25.

G ibeo N[9] . 1 Chronicles viii. 29.

O bed-edo M . 2 Samuel vi. 11.

D ov E . Genesis viii. 9.

THOMAS TYLER (Aged 14 years).

_Potton_, _Beds_.

[9] "Gideon" was given by mistake, in the Enigma, instead of "Gibeon."

WISDOM.

(PROVERBS iii. 13-15.)

True wisdom doth my soul admire, And would before fine gold prefer; For all the things I could desire Are not to be compared with her.

While earthly things fill earthly minds, Attracted to their native clod, Happy the man who wisdom finds, And holds her in the fear of G.o.d!

THE CLEVER BOY AND THE ELECTRICAL MACHINE.

An electrical machine was in the window of a scientific instrument maker's shop, and a youth stood looking at it with eager eyes. He was observing every part with intense curiosity. At length, after a long, absorbing gaze, a neighbouring clock struck. He started like one awakened from a sleep, and ran with all speed to his master's workshop.

The boy was the son of a working man--a smith, and was intended also for a working man, but not quite so laborious a trade. Perhaps the boy was not strong enough for his father's manly trade, so he was apprenticed to a bookbinder in Blandford Street, Marylebone. He was a very diligent lad, fond of work in hours of business, and fond of a book in hours of leisure. His master noticed this, and gave him leave to stay in the workshop during the dinner-hour.

Whilst his fellow-workers were drinking and smoking, the orphan boy was storing his mind with useful knowledge. In particular he loved books on scientific subjects. He liked to read about the wonders of chemistry; still more about electricity--that wonderful power that flashes out of the thunder-cloud, that dwells unseen in the dew-drop, that, at a touch, thrills through the startled nerves, and, like an invisible but mighty spirit, pervades all things, from the clouds of heaven to the clods of earth.

One day he found out the shop window with the electrical machine, and at every spare moment he haunted that window, taking the shape and measure of every k.n.o.b, and wire, and wheel, and plate, with earnest eyes. Then he resolved to try and make one for himself; so by the light of the early summer mornings, he was up and working away at his machine.

In time he completed it, and found it would act. He touched the k.n.o.b, and the shock that went through him was as nothing compared with the joy that throbbed through his heart at seeing his work complete.

He showed it to his master, who, being a kind and sensible man, was pleased and surprised at the ingenuity of the lad. The master was fond of showing the electrical apparatus of his industrious apprentice to every person likely to be interested in a clever youth. Amongst them were some Fellows of the Royal Society, who might, perhaps, have an admission ticket to give.

Some few years after, the lad, now a young man, was again gazing with wide open eyes, and laying up all he saw in his mind. This time it was not through a shop window that he looked. It was from a seat in the Royal Society's lecture-room that he witnessed Sir Humphrey Davey making some beautiful chemical experiments.