the history of our missions. They will not only learn that Christianity is hostile to all impurity, cruelty, and wrong, but that it is the only effective instrument to save a world, and banish sin and its consequences from it. Rejoicing themselves in its blessings, they will be the more zealous to aid its progress. They will see, in Paul's letter to Philemon, a practical exemplification of its spirit; and learn, that "in Christ Jesus there is neither circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond or free; and that our Almighty Father intends that in HIM "all the nations of the earth shall be blessed." Yes," replied the lady; "and what cannot you do?" Harry hesitated; then, coming forward, he seated himself at her feet, while he said, "You see, aunty, there's a boy at school whom I hate." "Not hate, Harry." "Yes, I do; I hate him, and I have good reason." Miss Mead laid her hand upon her nephew's head as she asked. "Why? "Why?" repeated Harry. "Oh! because." After a moment's pause, he went on: "You never knew such a boy! He is all the time teasing me, and making the other boys laugh." 66 Laughing does not hurt, does it ?" asked his aunt. "Sometimes it does," said Harry. "If they would only let me alone, I'd thank them." "Who are they that laugh ?" "Fred Davis and his Cousin Tom and Will Spencer are the worst." "Not then ?" Charlie and Herbert, 66 Oh, no; they take my part, and tell me not to mind it.' 66 'Why do you, then?" " asked Miss Mead. 66 Oh, because- and the lady saw big tears in the boy's eyes. He did not let them fall, however, but said, "It was only yesterday, I had finished my sums and had copied them on my large slate, when Horace Drew came by. He had been washing his sponge, and as he passed me, held it over my slate. The drops fell quickly, and my morning's work was spoiled. But I paid him," added Harry. What did you do?" asked Miss Mead. "I?" said Harry. “Why I told him he was a mean fellow; and he is." "Was that all you did ? " "No," said Harry, colouring as he spoke. “I pulled the chair away as he was going to sit in it, and he sat on the floor instead. He was mad enough then." "I dare say," replied his aunt. "What happened next ? " "Why, recess was over, and we were called to recitation. On our way to and from the room, Horace trod on my heels and toes, and pulled my hair. After school, as I was coming down the steps, he tripped me, so that I fell and cut my lip." "Was any one else near you?" "Yes, auntie, I do; for I hate him, as I said." Miss Mead sighed; for the boy was motherless. His mother had died abroad, where she had gone in pursuit of health; the father was still abroad; and Harry, who had been at boarding-school, was spending the winter at his grandmother's. His aunt had the principal care of him; and although young, she had a good deal of wisdom. She sought to impart it to Harry, but he was hard to convince. Not that evening, nor the next, was he persuaded to follow her counsel. Yet not many days passed ere he promised he would try heaping coals of fire on his schoolmate's head. "It won't do any good, Aunt Anne, I know; but I'll try it, to please you." 66 'I think it will," said Miss Mead; and the next morning, as he left the house, she called to him, "Have the coals all ready, Harry!" Just as he came in sight of the school-house, Horace appeared. He had a stick in his hand, with which he knocked off Harry's hat, and the boy had a long chase after it: but, as his friends Charlie and Herbert were with him, it was not so bad. In school, Harry could not find his pencils nor his slate. He thought Horace knew where they were, but he would not tell. Charlie Ray, however, lent his to Harry. Then, at recess, Horace took from his desk a photograph-book full of pictures, which he showed to the boys-all but Harry: he had no chance even to see one, which was a great trial, for he dearly loved pictures. Before school, too, in the afternoon, his companions were admiring and criticising the different faces, and he wished he could see them. When recess came, all the boys left the room but Harry. Charlie came to look for him, and as he entered said, "It will rain soon, I think." "Yes," said Harry; "it's as dark as a pocket here.” As Harry turned to go out, he saw Horace's book near the open window. Some large drops had already fallen on it, and Harry's first thought was, "The pictures will be spoiled; and I am glad of it." Then he remembered his aunt's words, stepped back and then forward again to the door. At last he seized hold of the book, and placing it out of danger, was by Charlie's side once more. But a heavy shower was falling, and the boys came trooping in. 66 Oh, my book!" exclaimed Horace. "I left it on the window, and I fear it's spoiled." "So it would have been," said John Bent, "if Harry had not taken it away." "More like he would have put it in the rain," growled Horace. "I would," said John, "if I were he. You behave so badly to him." Horace looked at Harry; he was talking, and no more was said; but Harry went home that night without injury. He was so pleased, that he tried the same course the next day. Sometimes it did not do any good; but gradually Horace ceased to trouble him. One day, about New Year, Harry went early to school; and on his desk he found a huge gingerbread man, bearing aloft a banner on which were inscribed the words, "Let us have peace.' As he read the inscription, he found Horace was beside him; and the two boys clasping hands, said, "Peace it shall be, and no mistake." WALKING SERMONS. BY THEODORE L. CUYLER, D.D. "Go then and preach!" This was Christ's first commission to the first company of workers He ever sent into His vineyard. He did not stop to organize them into councils, conferences, or synods. Each one who had the Gospel in his heart was to utter it with his tongue. Each one who could heal a sick man or mend a cripple's broken limb was to exert the power. Each one who had a "lamp" of love was to let it shine. Every good man and every good woman was commanded to glorify God their Saviour by "bearing much fruit." They introduced into the world a new style of human life. Such characters and such careers as Paul, and John, and Stephen, and Peter, and Dorcas furnished, were a novelty in this wicked world. Such sermons in sandals had not been seen before-" going about doing good." There was a mighty power in the preaching of men and women whose lives were Christian discourses, because each one of them was a living manifestation of Jesus Christ to the world. Scoffers might ridicule the apostles' strange doctrines; but they could not ridicule the beauty of the apostles' unselfish, sublime, and holy lives. There lay one great secret of the apostles' power in winning converts to Christ. Now the question is often asked in our day: "Why are not more persons converted to Christianity? It is not a sufficient answer to reply that God's purpose is to save only a portion of mankind. God's purpose is to save every one who believes on Jesus Christ and follows Him. This only pushes the question further back. "Why do not more persons believe in Christ and follow Him?" It is not a sufficient answer to affirm that all sinners are by nature, "dead in sin,' and that none but the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit can renew them to spiritual life. These facts were as true in Paul's day as in our own. I honestly believe that one chief reason for the fewness of conversions to Christ, is that there is so little preaching for Christ in the daily lives of His professed disciples, and such a fearful amount of direct preaching against Him. Actions speak louder than words. The bad sermons of the life are an overmatch for the best sermons on Sunday from the lips. The most faithful and eloquent preaching in the pulpit fails to win those who are disgusted and repelled by the un sentatives. worthy, inconsistent conduct of those who claim to be Christ's repreWho supposes that, if all the Gospel proclaimed on the Sabbath was reinforced by the eloquence of beautiful, and exemplary, and useful, and holy lives, so few souls would be converted in our congregations? The simple fact is that every professor of Christianity, every Churchmember, is a preacher, whether he knows it or not. Every life is a sermon. Some Church-members find their texts in the shop or the stock-market; and they preach-by their practice-that the chief end of life is to make money. They make more converts to Mammon than to Christ. Others preach the Gospel of fashion and self-indulgence; and they attract more to the pleasure-party and the frolic than they do to the prayer-meeting. What matters it that the eighth commandment is solemnly enforced from the pulpit on the Lord's-day, if those who represent Christ in the world are over-reaching their unconverted neighbours in business during the week? For it is the combined weight of the sermons through the week that carries more influence than the one or two discourses spoken on the Sabbath. What Christians do when outside of the sanctuary influences more characters and moulds more eternal destinies than what any one Christian can say when inside of the sanctuary, even though he were a Paul in eloquence. Nor would Paul himself have made any converts to the Gospel of the cross if he had not proved to the world that "Christ liveth in me." His own heroic and holy life was one of the grandest epistles he ever produced. One great reason for the sad lack of conversions to Christ in our days is, that so many of the sermons in shoes lead the wrong way. For remember, my brother preacher, that a Christ-like life is the mightiest human influence to attract human souls to God. The most unanswerable argument against the subtle scepticism of the day is the living Christian. Jesus commissions every one of His followers to be a winner of souls. He says: "Go then and preach" Go then and shine! Go, live like Me! Bear fruit! Follow Me! My grace is sufficient for you! And when our Lord bestows this spiritual gift of a likeness unto Himself, He gives a higher boon and a grander power than if He had bestowed the eloquence of a seraph. a sermon. It is often said that there are not preachers enough to meet the demands of the land and of the world. That may be true. But every living Christian is a preacher. Every prayerful, earnest, godly life is There are a hundred ways of preaching Jesus without choosing a Bible text or standing in a pulpit. A Wilberforce could proclaim the Gospel of love on the floor of the British Parliament, even though he wore no surplice, and never had a bishop's hand laid upon his honoured head. George H. Stuart was an apostle of the cross when he organised the Christian Commission for soldiers' tents; and John Macgregor was another when he organised the "Shoe-black Brigades in the streets of London. Hannah Moore preached Christ in the drawing-room, and Elizabeth Fry in prison-cells, and Florence Nightingale in the hospitals, and Sarah F. Smiley among the negro freedmen of the South. Our Master scatters His commissions very widely. Harlan Page dropping the tract and the kind word through the city workshops; John Wanamaker, the Christian merchant, mustering poor children into his "Bethany" mission-house; James Lennox, giving his gold to build churches and hospitals; the Dairyman's Daughter, murmuring the name of Jesus with her faint, dying voice; George Müller, housing and feeding God's orphans-all these were effective and powerful preachers of the glorious Gospel of the Son of God. There is a poor needlewoman in my congregation whose unselfish, cheerful, holy life impresses me as much as any pulpit message of mine can possibly impress her. A true and noble life is the mightiest of discourses. It is the sermons in shoes that must convert the world to Jesus, if it is ever to be converted. To-day this world's sorest want is more Christ-like men and women. The preaching it needs is not only the precept, but the practice of a pure, heaven-born piety. A worldly, fashion-loving, covetous, cowardly Church will never save men from hell. But a Church of living disciples, whose hearts have been cleansed by atoning blood, and whose lives are made beautiful by inward conflict and secret prayer, and made eloquent by noble, holy deeds-these are the preachers who shall win this wicked world to Jesus. Their voice is a trumpet. Their influence is as salt. Their example is a light. Their lives are the sermons that shall wake the dead. But, to be such preachers of Christ, we all need the ordination and the baptism of the Holy Spirit. REGRETS. If we had but known, if we had but known, Those summer days together, That one would stand next year alone In the blazing July weather! Why, we trifled away the golden hours, And the song of the murmuring flood. If we had but known, if we had but known, |