died by violence, but peacefully upon his bed, most probably in Ephesus, amidst his "little children." The ehurches found it difficult to believe that he had really passed away; the saying had gone abroad among them that he should not die, but should continue until the appearing of the Lord; and by-and-by the legend was framed that he was not really dead but only sleeping in his grave. As has been said, it was not wholly an error; for "he lives and will ever live by his writ ings, and the future belongs to him even more than the past." HOW HE WAS SAVED. I HAD been taking a long walk. The day was inspiring, and I walked briskly, enjoying the crisp autumn air and the blustering wind. The route home led me through a retired road, and past the little rural cemetery, whose white stones stood up ghostly among tall forest trees. Adjoining the cemetery was a broad pasture, where four young horses were pastured. I had often noticed them for their fine points, and evident enjoyment of their pleasant pasture and freedom. But something struck_me as unusual in their behaviour as I was hastening by that day, and I presently stopped to watch them. In the part of the field most remote from the road, one colt-a bright bay-stood in an excited attitude, with his neck stretched over the fence which separated the pasture from the cemetery lands, looking at something on the other side. Suddenly he started away, and galloped furiously to another part of the field, where two of his companions were quietly nibbling the grass. After a moment of excited communication of some sort, all three galloped back to the fence, and, standing in a row, seemed to contemplate the mysterious something on the other side. Soon, as if frightened, they scampered off a short distance; then, neighing and curvetting, they trotted back aga.n. By this time the fourth horse, who had been grazing in a distant corner, had noticed the commotion, and was looking on from afar, with ears pricked up, all on the alert. Presently, one of the three seemed to think of him, and turning, galloped a few paces, then paused, and uttered a loud whinny. The grey colt in stantly tossed up his heels, and thundered up the field. but I mounted the fence to get, if possible, a view of the mystery, could see nothing whatever. All of a sudden, the four colts started away as if panic-stricken, and fled swiftly with flying tails and manes, while the bright bay, quite overcome by excitement, threw him. self down, and rolled over and over, kicking furiously. It was a noble picture those beautiful creatures in their wild, spirited attitudes-and I watched it had with intense delight. The sun set, and the sky was glowing in brilliant crimson, as a background to the scene. After their first flight, the colts did not seem inclined to return to their post of observation, and I got down from mine, to continue my homeward way. But somehow, I felt a vague dis comfort and uneasiness, which spoiled my pleasure in the crimson glow of the sky, and which seemed to take the sparkle out of the air. "Nonsense! nonsense!" I said aloud. “I shan't get home till dark ,"—and I walked on, very deter пош mined not to be hindered. But with every step the vague disquiet increased, till at last I turned round with no little patient feeling. "I am a goose, I suppose, but I can't help it," I said, and quickening my pace, I soon found myself among the solemn shadows of the Quiet City, I was not afraid, but the place seemed very "lonesome." As I made my way as fast as I was able through the tall grass, I stumbled, and nearly fell over something which had got wedged between two stones, and as I turned to see what it was which had so nearly overthrown me, something gleamed in the fading light. I picked it up, and when I saw what it was I cried out, for it was a toy sword I had given my little nephew on his birthday, a few days ago. I had seen the little fellow playing with it in the garden when I left home to take this walk. The vague disquiet became a definite fear, and I called, with beating heart, "Benny! Benny! are you here?" No answer came but the mocking echoes, and I ran forward, searching among the tall weeds and underbush, calling repeatedly in my distress. At length the colts, who had been watching me from a distance, trotted up,and stood regarding me curiously, while I begged them, as if they could understand, to show me where was. darling Then came one of the marvellous parts of my story! The beautiful bay trotted off a little distance, then turned and looked back with a low whinny. In my eagerness to follow over it, and in a moment more stood breathless and agonized be side a little motionless mass of white which lay among the blackberry vines and withered grass. I stooped, and oh, I knew, before I raised the insensible little figure, that it was Benny-his sweet face and hands as white as his dress, except where on the satin skin were marks of blood. I took him in my arms and struggled to my feet, bewildered and blinded with tears. I could never retrace my steps over the rough way by which I had come. I knew the smoothest way lay through the pasture. How I got over the fence with my precious burden in my arms I never knew, but I was conscious that the four colts watched me all the time, I managed to reach the wateringtrough, which was fed from the hills beyond, and there I washed the stains from the still face, and kissed and chafed the cold hands, with a heart so full of anguish, that the few moments before Benny opened his eyes seemed like hours. What was I to do? The twilight was fast fading, and who could tell the consequences, if the exhausted child should be exposed to the chill and damp of the approaching even I stumbled over rock and bramble, ing? I struggled on with my dear while the colt, on the other side of the fence, trotted on ahead. He stopped, and as before, stretched his neck over the fence for a moment; then dashed away, shaking his mane, but returned at once and stood still, with quivering nostrils. Between me and the spot where was a rail fence, but I got he stood burden pressed close to my breast, till I reached the lower end of the field, the colts following quietly. There I paused, and gazed desperately down the long grassy road, where a wagon might not pass for hours. Then I looked at the four dumb friends who had guided me so wonderfully to rescue the lost one. Again I spoke to the bright bay, as if he had been a human friend, and could appreciate my sore distress. I laid my hand on his glossy neck, and told him I was almost wild with anxiety for the little life he had saved, and that he must help me get the child home as soon as possible, or he might die. Then I gently tested him by raising Benny to his back; and, how wonderful to tell! the dumb beast, whereon had never man sat, stood quiet as a lamb, to receive for his first burden the little wounded child. I contrived to wrap Benny in my shawl, and held the ends in a way to support him. Then I led the colt out into the road, and closed the gate. The three mates trotted along on the other side, whinnying loudly when the dividing fence cut off their progress. And so we made our weary way homeward. I can never tell how long it was before we met an anxious group coming to seek us. I did not faint; indeed, I walked firmly with the rest; but from the time I heard my sister's voice, crying, " O Corry! Corry! have you seen Benny? cannot remember anything I said or did, though they told me I talked I incessantly, telling all about the adventure, and dilating eloquently on the behaviour of the bay. It seemed, afterward, that Benny had disappeared with me, as all supposed, and no anxiety was felt until it became so late and cold. He had "t'ied to find auntie," Benny explained, as he lay pale and languid in his mother's lap, " and he had dot lost, and falled into the fistles." How he had wandered so far astray was a matter for speculation in the family, till in time other things even more incomprehensible hap pened, which threw this great marvel into the shade. The fluttering of the white dress and Benny's moans must have been the cause of the excitement among the colts; and I shudder, even now, to imagine the consequences, had I not yielded to the strange sense of danger, and to that mysterious, merciful feeling, which forced me to go back. Benny's father purchased the bright bay, and he became Benny's special property, and the pet of the whole household. To-day Benny and the noble horse are most enthusiastic friends and playmates, and Hero and his master are both twelve years old. THE GARMENT OF HUMILITY. BY THE REV. HARVEY PHILLIPS, B.A. "Be clothed with humility."-1 Pet. v. 5. No garment sits so well upon human nature, and no ornament so gracefully conceals its deformity, as humility. Yet there is no dress which we find it more difficult to assume. Like Saul's armour upon David it is too great and unwieldy for us, and, ruffled and irritated, we speedily cast it away. There is something in our imperfect and unsanctified nature which revolts at the very idea of submission, condescension, and inferiority. Brought down by our own guilt to the lowest position of degradation and weakness, we vainly seek to console and flatter ourselves by personal pride and self-exaltation. Closing our eyes and ears to the manifest signs of our frailty and imperfection, glory in the dignity and superiority of our nature, forgetting that our we very nature is depraved by sin and folly. Walking erect, we turn our eyes upwards to the skies, and realize not that we are nevertheless standing upon the earth. Nor is this by any means a mere isolated failing. It pertains not to any nation or class of people in particular, but is more or less universal. It is a striking fact that the whole of the Latin language afforded not so much as a name for humility,-the humilitas from which we derive it having amongst the Romans a totally different signification. And even the flexible Greek could find no term to express it till the apostles coined one, and introduced it into the original tongue of the New Testament. Thus it is evident that humility is pre-eminently a Christian grace; the word having no place in other vocabularies, and the virtue itself finding no motive sufficiently strong to urge to its exercise, but that which comes through the revelation of the Divine condescension. In contemplating this subject let us consider I-WHAT IS MEANT BY BEING CLOTHED WITH HUMILITY. That there is such a thing as mock or false humility we need not stay to prove. The words are in everybody's mouth continually. And we see people assuming a humility they do not possess, and speaking of themselves in a lowly manner when their real object is self-exaltation. Such pretended assumptions of lowliness are altogether opposed to the true spirit of humility. The word as used by the apostle signifies, not merely a low estimate of ourselves and a corresponding lowliness of deportment and expression, but it especially means the thinking lowlily of ourselves because we are so, and feel ourselves to be so; thinking truly, and because truly, therefore lowlily, of ourselves." To cultivate this grace we need only contemplate ourselves as we really are, examine our true condition, look at ourselves in the mirror of truth and righteousness, and we shall come away humbled to the dust. "the When we put ourselves side by side with our fellow-men, and consider in how many respects we are excelled by our neighbours, we can scarcely find room for pride. If, however, we turn our thoughts upward, and look to God, and reflect upon His works and ways, we cannot fail to be conscious of our own littleness. As we look abroad upon the vast expanse of creation, and think of the mighty worlds which revolve around us and shine above us, and as we behold the wonders and beauties of the globe on which we dwell, the words of the psalmist rise spontaneously to our thoughts, "When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained; what is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that Thou visitest him?" And as the Most High comes before our minds and appeals to our souls in all the dignity and perfection of His moral and spiritual being, we are struck dumb with astonishment, and can only exclaim like Job, Behold, I am vile; what shall I answer Thee?" Nothing is more calculated to inspire us with humility than a consciousness of the Divine presence and a view of the Divine glory. To see God as He is, and ourselves as we are, may well make us lowly, as we contrast our insignificance, weakness, and guilt, with His greatness, power, and own perfection. Such has always been the result when God has approached His people. Elijah wrapped his face in his mantle when the Lord spake. Isaiah, seeing a vision of the Divine glory, exclaimed, “Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." And the apostle Peter, as he became convinced of the mighty power of Jesus, said to Him, "Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord." The command to be clothed with humility suggests that our truest ornament is a humble estimate of ourselves. The idea is that of an outer garment gathered around and fastened with some ornamental fastening. It must be so closely connected with us that nothing shall be able to tear it away; and yet so conspicuous as to be the first object of attraction. It must be as the outer garment which covers all the rest, and like the girdle which binds all together. We must render ourselves at once conspicuous and attractive by hiding ourselves. clothed with humility." We consider "Be of II.—SOME ADVANTAGES TO BE SECURED BY BEING HUMBLE. God's commandments have nothing arbitrary about them. Whatever He ordains is for our good. If He bids us to serve, love, and obey Him, it is because to do so will promote our highest welfare. If we are told to walk in wisdom's ways, we are assured that her ways are ways pleasantness and all her paths are peace. And if we are we are required to be humble, it is because, being our true and appropriate position, it will conduce to our purest happiness and greatest well-being. There are many respects in which it is to our advantage to be humble. 1. Humility is the great qualification for the reception of knowledge and for entrance into the kingdom of heaven. A proud man will neither learn anything from his neighbour nor receive anything from his God. If a man thinks he knows enough already upon any given subject, he is not likely to learn much more: and if a man is satisfied with the position which he now holds, it is scarcely possible that he will seek a better. The very self-satisfaction which leads him to say to himself, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up in store for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry," is enough to fix his final doom. or we Humility opens the pathway to all knowledge. By it our minds become docile so that they are prepared to receive every new form of truth. And if we cherish this spirit, may we not learn from all around us? He must be very foolish who cannot teach us something, must be more foolish if from all with whom we come in contact we cannot learn something. Humility also prepares for the reception the divine kingdom into the heart. Our ideas of God and of our relationship to him are all founded on false views of Him and of our selves. If, however, we be humble and teachable, he will come into our hearts and abide there, teaching us the doctrine of the kingdom, breaking down our spirit of rebellion, and removing the scales of of |