When we had finished with Emden, we spoke with the same facility to the gentleman on duty at Odessa. This did not satisfy us, and in a few seconds we were through to the Persian capital, Teheran.

There were no messages about, the time was favourable, and the _employes_ of the various countries seemed anxious to give us an opportunity of testing the capacity of this wonderful wire. T.H.N.

(Teheran) said, "Call Kurrachee," and in less time than it takes to write these words we gained the attention of the Indian town. The signals were good, and our speed must have equalled fifteen words a minute.

The operator at Kurrachee, when he learnt that London was speaking to him, thought it would be a good opportunity to put us through to Agra, and to our astonishment the signals did not fail, and we chatted pleasantly for a few minutes with Mr. Malcolm Khan, the clerk on duty.

To make this trial of telegraphy complete, Agra switched us on to another line, and we were soon talking to a native telegraphist at the Indian Government Cable Station, Calcutta.

At first the gentleman at the other end of the wire could not believe that he was really in direct communication with the English capital, and he exclaimed, in Morse language, "Are you really London?"

Truly this was a great achievement. Metallic communication, without a break, from 18, Old Broad Street, London, to the telegraph office in Calcutta! Seven thousand miles of wire! The signals were excellent, and the speed attained was no fewer than twelve, perhaps fourteen, words per minute.

ANSWER TO BIBLE ENIGMA.

(_Page 235._)

"_Jesus wept._"--JOHN xi. 35.

J otham Judges ix. 5.

E glon Judges iii. 14.

S apphira Acts v. 1, 2.

U zzah 2 Samuel vi. 7.

S amuel 1 Samuel i. 14.

W ater Exodus xvii. 3.

E noch Hebrews xi. 5.

P otiphar Genesis x.x.xix. 1.

T homas Acts i. 13.

RUTH CROWHURST (Aged 9 years).

_Hastings._

MEMOIRS OF ELLEN AND HENRY HOAD.

"Around the throne of G.o.d in heaven Thousands of children stand; Children whose sins are all forgiven-- A holy, happy band."

Of the truth of these lines there can be no doubt in the minds of G.o.d's people, and a very blessed truth it is. There is a heaven of joy and love, and in this heaven there is the throne of G.o.d, and many dear children are standing around this throne, singing praises unto G.o.d and the Lamb. Their sins forgiven, their sorrows gone, their sufferings ended, death past, joy, and peace, and glory eternal now begun, who is there that could not desire to be with them, and to be as they are?

Among this happy band we hope the two young ones--brother and sister--Ellen and Henry, whose names are at the top of this page, are now standing; and to give some reason of this hope is now our object in writing these few lines.

Many, alas! have hopes of salvation and heaven for which their life and testimony can afford no solid ground for them to rest upon, and whose hope will one day make them ashamed, and, like the flickering lamps of the foolish virgins, will go out when the Bridegroom comes.

Ellen and Henry were the children of praying parents, and, both of them being members of the Church at Bodle Street, their children attended the Sabbath School connected with that cause. The mother died in 1882, of consumption, and some of the children soon manifested symptoms of the same disease. An elder sister kept house, and as the younger ones grew up, they had to go out to earn their bread.

Ellen was sent to service soon after she was twelve years old, and not living far from the school, she was permitted still to attend; and certainly she was a girl that needed no constraint in this matter, for if her duties kept her on Sundays until too late for the lessons, she would even then take her seat with the cla.s.s while she listened to the sermon.

How often children manifest a dislike to the house of G.o.d, and how soon there is an enmity appearing against good things! To many, attendance both at school and the house of G.o.d is a burden, and when they grow older they cast off all restraint and run wildly into sin. To such, parental control is hateful; the wise counsels of father and mother are scorned; the family altar, if possible, avoided; and their inward idea is that, when they leave home, they shall then go on as they like, and have their fill of pleasure. If any such children are reading these lines, let them pause and tremble, for there is an Eye watching their every thought, and an Almighty Arm that can reach them; and, sooner or later, there will be a bringing into judgment, and who can say how soon?

But certainly, with Ellen, it was her delight to go to the house of G.o.d.

The writer has met her many times on Sunday mornings on her way, her face bright and happy, a stronger bond than duty binding her close to G.o.d's people.

In the autumn of 1887, the fatal languor that often accompanies consumption appeared in Ellen, and, though she bore up bravely for a little time, she had at length to leave her place and go home. Going home to die seems hard for young ones like Ellen to think of, yet there is no staying the Hand that strikes. The summons must be obeyed. In such a case the great question arises, "Are we ready, or are we not?" Ellen's earthly home had no mother to welcome the child, or to soothe her in her dying hours; and no one can truly fill the mother's place at such a time. But it was not to be long. Soon she was beyond the reach of mortal aid, and want, pain, and care had pa.s.sed away for ever.

The father gives the following particulars of what he witnessed in Ellen, and it is well indeed when parents can give such testimonies of their children:--

"She was a very dutiful girl, and very quiet--so much so, that I seldom had to rebuke her; always very attentive at school, and, when out at service, she would attend the house of G.o.d if possible. All this was very good; but I wanted something further, and when she first came home ill, I wanted it made manifest that the Lord had begun a work of grace in her soul, and that she had been truly 'born again.'

"One morning, as I went home from chapel, Ellen said to me, 'Father, Mr.

D---- has been to see me.' I then asked her, 'Did he talk to you? and did you like what he said?' She answered, 'Yes, very much, and I should like for him to come again.' Then, bursting into tears, she said, 'I should so like to be able to answer him better, but I cannot. I should so much like to go to chapel again.' And when her sister asked her if she thought she should get better, she said she did not know, but should so like to go to school once more.

"The night before she died, I saw a great change in her, and I asked her if she ever prayed to the Lord for mercy. 'Yes,' she said, 'sometimes I wake up in the night and pray to Him. I should not mind death if I knew my sins were pardoned. There is nothing to stop here for if I knew this.'"

The writer has seen her weep much, when speaking to her of the certainty of death and the judgment, the sufferings of Jesus, and the abundance of pardon through His blood. Can there be a more touching sight than to see a child fourteen years old weeping and praying in sincerity for mercy, as a guilty sinner before G.o.d?

Ellen died so suddenly that nothing further was gathered from her lips, but we believe her end was peace. She quietly pa.s.sed away on February 10th, 1888, aged fourteen years.

In connection with her and her prayers and tears, these lines seem very sweet to me--

"Did ever mourner plead with Thee, And Thou reject that mourner's plea?

Does not Thy Word of truth remain, That none shall seek Thy face in vain?"

Henry was two years older than his sister Ellen, and, like her, had to commence work early, and bear the yoke in his youth. He had been a regular attendant at the Sabbath School, and was truly a promising boy.

Quiet and serious he went on his way, and read his Bible, which, through faith in Christ Jesus, is able to make wise unto salvation. He was, in the leadings of Providence, called to labour at a place where he had some work to do on Sunday mornings, and it was noticed that he seemed put out in his mind if he was ever prevented from attending school.

In the spring of 1888 the same disease that cut down his mother and sister appeared in Henry, and he had to leave his place and go home. The teachers of the school and the friends around could see his days on earth must now be very few, and that he too, like Ellen, had come home to die. Yet he went to school a few times after this, and in May went to Hailsham to spend a few days with some friends. Here we had an opportunity of observing him closely, but he was scarcely able to say a word about himself. He was failing fast at this time, and truly it was sorrowful to see how feebly he moved about. When visiting the field on Whit Monday, where the Sunday School children were having their treat, what a contrast we beheld between the bright, healthy, happy children, and the poor, pale, languid, dying boy looking on!

Soon after this he went back home, and went out but little afterwards.

He gradually wasted in body and strength, and could no longer attend the school, though living but a few yards from it.

And now came the time of testing the matter, whether there was anything of the work of the Holy Spirit in him, or whether it consisted in merely coming and going to and from the house of G.o.d.

Let our readers reflect, this time of testing is coming to every one of us, and we shall soon be brought where our young friend was--to lie down and die, and thus appear before G.o.d.

We will now give some particulars of his last words and exercises, and thus let our readers think for themselves what ground we have for our hope that this dear young lad is now in heaven.

His father writes thus of his concern--"I had watched him for some time, thinking I could see some signs of concern, and that he was different from what he had been. I was almost sure he had been at times trying to pray, but he would not let me see him if he could help it. According as his illness came on he took more to his Bible and hymn-book, and they were his daily and hourly companions. The friends in the school were much concerned about him, and talked to him about his soul, but could not get anything from him. Yet he seemed to like to hear them, so I asked him if he did not enjoy what they said. He said 'Yes,' but did not wish to say anything wrong, though he hoped that some of the things spoken were the workings of his mind. I was very much concerned about him myself, and my desire was, that the Lord would make it manifest that He had a favour toward him. Once, when about my work, I could not help asking the Lord for this, when these words came with some sweetness, 'At evening time it shall be light'; then I had a hope that the Lord would appear for him. Soon after this he had these words come with some power, 'When thou pa.s.sest through the waters I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee'; and then he expressed the hope that the Lord would be with him in the river of death.

"When he was confined to his bed he seemed very restless, and being in great exercise of mind, he folded his hands, and we could see his lips move, but could not hear the words.

"Once, when I came home late from my work, and went into his bed-room, he called me to him and said, 'I have had a blessed afternoon, for the Lord has been with me, and I can leave you all now, and everything of earth; and I believe that I shall go to heaven. I have prayed for you all.' I told him I was very glad--more so than if any one had given me gold, and asked him how it came to pa.s.s--whether it was by any word coming with power or otherwise? He said, 'No, but it was a sweet, humbling influence which so softened my heart, and drew my affections to the Lord Jesus. It enables me to bear my sufferings better, and I lie more comfortable.'