drawing the bow against the garrison. The chariots with their prancing horses and exulting warriors seem to have cleared the way, like cavalry in the times before artillery superseded its functions, for these decisive operations. In the siege of Ada the King himself shoots the arrow against it. The legend over the lower row of bas-reliefs reads, "The city Karkar of Urkhilēni of the Hamathites I took." It was near this important city on the river Orontes, which has been identified with Aroer, that, as will be recollected, the decisive battle of the campaign was fought. Here then we have for the first time before our eyes in a contemporary work of art the very scene and catastrophe, so to speak, of the tragedy in which Ahab and Benhadad were conspicuous actors. The drama has its beginning, middle, and end. In one Assyrian tent we see the inauguration of the siege with religious rites, whilst in another goes forward the work of the commissariat department. One woman before her kneading-trough is making loaves for the

troops, which a second bakes in a round field-oven, whilst a third piles them up in a heap overtopping their heads. The beleaguering army is depicted with great spirit, both in the moment of its being led forth in its bounding chariots to the assault, and as it returns in triumph to the royal pavilion, in which, as the centre of the whole representation, we seem to hear Shalmaneser from his throne anticipating Cæsar's boast, "I came, I saw, I conquered." Guarded by their conquerors, and introduced by court officials, envoys of high rank, who have fled from the burning city, present to the king their tribute of gold, silver, copper, changes of raiment, and horses, whilst a long file of wretched captives brings up the rear. To the extreme left is seen Karkar in flames. Alike as a work of high art, such as could hardly have been looked for from Assyria in the ninth century before the Christian era, and for its interesting association with the history of Biblical personages, it will be owned on all hands to be a most striking tableau.

The chosen vessel of the Lord?

The soul to dare and never faint,

The arm to wield the conqueror's sword?

The love of Christ doth now constrain: For Christ he counts his glories loss, To live is Christ, to die is gain.

O'er land and sea to all mankind
He bears the flag his Master bore,
Forgetting still the things behind,

And reaching forth to things before;

No foe to fear, no toil to grudge,

Self-pledged, till death shall strike him down,

And He, the Lord, the righteous Judge,
Grant to His saint the martyr crown.

O Saviour! when with heedless jest,
Or blinding zeal, or anger fierce,
We wound the souls that Thou hast blest,
Dear Lord, unknowing Whom we pierce,

Look, Lord, upon us from above;
Speak, Lord, "Why warrest thou with Me?"
Then make us heralds of Thy love,
And chosen vessels unto Thee.

FIRST EVENING. Opening Hymn: "We are but little children, weak." Lesson: 1 Sam. xvii. 12-52. Concluding Hymn: Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me.'

very

'HE story of David's fight with Goliath is well known; I dare say you have heard it before, and have admired the bravery of the young shepherd lad,-who so boldly comes forward to fight the terrible giant. Think how frightening the very sight of the great armed man must have been to a boy who had never been in a battle in his life. How could he dare, then, to try what even old soldiers shrank from?

If you will look again at the chapter, you will see that this was not quite the first danger David had had to face.

When King Saul tried to persuade him of the uselessness of a boy like him fighting the great giant, David told him how once, when he was keeping his father's sheep, a lion and a bear had come upon him, and stolen away a lamb out of his flock. Then David, boy though he was, had attacked and killed both the lion and the bear, and saved his lamb from them. The danger was no small one, but God had given him strength to meet it, and he trusted that He would also strengthen him to meet this second and greater danger.

Every trial bravely met and overcome strengthens us for harder trials. If David had thought only of his own safety, and run away when he saw the wild beasts coming, he would not have been ready to fight the giant now. A soldier, however brave he may be, is not able to go and fight all at once. You know he has to be drilled for a long time, and go through many exercises before he is thought fit to go into battle. Now so it is with us; the little trials which God sends us at first are meant to prepare us for the harder trials which must come afterwards; they are the exercises which are to make good soldiers of us.

I

You will find that the bravest men are those who have been brave in boyhood. will tell you something of a great and good man, who by his way of facing little difficulties in boyhood gained courage bravely to meet danger in after-life.

You may not have heard of good Bishop Patteson, the missionary bishop of Melanesia. If you open the map you will see between Australia and New Zealand several groups of

| small islands-Santa Cruz, the New Hebrides, the Loyalty Islands, and others. All these islands together are spoken of as Melanesia, just as when speaking of England, Scotland, and Wales, we call them by the one name of Great Britain. It was found to be impossible for the Bishop of New Zealand to attend properly to all these islands, so, in 1861, Mr. Patteson, who for six years had been working under the Bishop of New Zealand, was chosen to be the first Bishop of Melanesia. The different islands of which Bishop Patteson had charge could only, of course, be got at by boats. A missionary ship called the Southern Cross was built and fitted out, and this ship became to the bishop a sort of home. In it he used to go about, touching at the different islands, and trying to make friends with the wild copper-coloured natives. When he had learned something of their language he would speak to them of the good news he had come to bring of the love of God, and of His Son Jesus Christ; and sometimes he would persuade them to let him take one or two of the boys away with him for a year or two to a school which he had set up in Norfolk Island.

Very often the islanders had never seen white men before, and then they were inclined to be friendly to the bishop and his party, but if they had seen white men before they seemed to look upon the missionaries as enemies. The reason of their fear was a very sorrowful one. European traders had come to these islands, and had taken advantage of the friendliness of the natives to steal away, or to kidnap, as it is called, some of their boys. The unhappy natives were not able to distinguish between one set of white people and another, and thought that the missionaries must have come for the same cruel purpose as the bad traders. Their hearts were full of hatred to all white men, and they were determined to prevent their setting foot upon their shores.

in the bottom of the boat, while arrows were flying all around. The bishop called to the two lads, who were the least hurt, to row hard, and they reached the ship in safety. But the terrible poisoned arrows had done their deadly work, and, after a few days of severe suffering, two of the boys died. The loss of these two young native Christians, his helpers in all his missionary work, was the greatest sorrow of the bishop's life, and the manner of their death must have made him feel more strongly than ever the risk of landing upon unknown shores.

But Bishop Patteson, though he was careful not to run needlessly into danger, never shrank from any danger, however great, that came to him in the way of duty. For seven years longer he continued his missionary work, and then death came to him, as it had come to his young converts. He was once more near the Santa Cruz group of islands, where he specially wished to gain some hold, so that he might undo the harm done by the traders, and show the natives that all white men were not cruel and false.

In a letter written four days before his death, the bishop said he did not think there was very much cause for fear, but that he knew well he might run considerable risk.

As the ship's boat drew near Santa Cruz, a canoe came up, and the natives who were in it asked the bishop to get in and let them row him to shore. They seemed friendly, so he got in, and the canoe rowed off. Those who were left in the boat saw him land, but after that they lost sight of him.

They waited half an hour, and then some more canoes came up, and the men who were in them began shooting with the poisoned

arrows.

Badly wounded they made their way back to the ship, and waited for the bishop; but he did not come, so some of the party set out in the boat to look for him. At last they saw what seemed to be an empty canoe, but as they got nearer they saw that it held the dead body of their beloved master. He had been killed by the poisoned arrows of the natives, in revenge for five natives who had been killed by the traders; and there he lay, calmly smiling, a palm-leaf covering his breast. So died the martyr-bishop of Mela

nesia.

I have told you the story of Bishop Patteson's dangers among the heathen, and of his manner of facing those dangers; now I will tell you one story of his courage when he was only a boy at school. He was particularly fond of cricket, and was in the eleven

at Eton. Every year there was a cricketing dinner given, and a custom had arisen among the boys of singing coarse, bad songs at this dinner. Patteson told the boys beforehand that if anything of the sort were done he should leave the room. In spite of this warning one of the boys began to sing something objectionable. Patteson called out, "If that does not stop, I shall leave the room!" and as no notice was taken he got up and went out, followed by a few other boys. Fond as he was of cricket, he thought himself obliged to send word to the captain of the eleven that unless an apology were made he must leave the eleven; but the boys were anxious not to lose his services, and the apology was made,

What Coleridge Patteson did was only a small thing in itself; but to him it was a very hard thing, for many of the boys laughed at him for what he had done, and you all know how hard it is to bear being laughed at.

So

And you may be sure of this, that he who lets himself be conquered by little things is most unlikely to conquer in great ones. if you are tempted to be cross, or cowardly, or lazy, or to give way to any little fault, remember that he who would fight the giant must first conquer the lion and the bear.

The writer of this psalm is struck with wonder and fear and joy at the thought of God's presence filling all things, both in Heaven and earth. Where shall a man hide himself from God? If he would go up to Heaven, God is there; if down to the depths of the sea, He is there also. Darkness will not cover him, for to God the night is as clear as the day; to God are known, not only every word on his tongue, but his very inmost thoughts, which no one else can read.

Do you remember the story of Hagar, the servant of Abraham's wife, Sarah - how Sarah treated her harshly, and drove her away from her home, out into the lonely wilderness? And as she was sitting there, sorrowful and alone, God sent His angel to comfort her, and to tell her that she should have a child. Hagar had believed that she was quite alone in the wilderness, far from all help and comfort, and now she finds that God is near her, watching over her in her trouble. And then the thought came into her mind, "Thou God seest me," and she

called the well of water by which she sat, "The well of Him that liveth and seeth

me."

Thou God seest me." What a wonderful difference it would make in our lives if only we always remembered this! How many things are there that we should not do, if only we felt that God's eye was upon us as it was upon Hagar! But what we cannot see we easily forget, and because we cannot see that God is always watching us we forget about it, and act as if we were quite alone. If I were to ask you whether it is easier to keep from wrong when you are by yourself, or when some one is by, I do not suppose you would hesitate which to answer. The temptation is not nearly so hard a one when you feel that there is some one beside you watching what you will do; but the good, the noble thing, is to fight against temptation and to do the right, when there is no one at hand to see whether you fail or whether you succeed. St. Paul, in writing to his friends at Philippi, bids them persevere in doing right-not only when he is with them, but much more now that he is away from them.

You know a good servant is one who
VIII. N.S.

| always does his work as if he were under his master's eye; and if we would be good servants of God, we must remember in all that we do, that, though no human eye may see us, our Heavenly Master always beholds us.

I will tell you of a poor, ignorant man, who would not do what he felt to be wrong, even though he was sorely tempted, and though his wrong-doing would never have been known. You must turn your thoughts to North-West America, the part of the world from which come most of the beautiful furs that English ladies wear. The creatures who give us these furs, the fox, the marten, the beaver, and others, are all wild animals, who wander over the great snow-covered plains, into places where it is very difficult to get at them. The most skilful hunters are the Red Indians, as the dark-skinned natives of North America are called. They are so swift and light of foot, so keen of eye and ear, that they can take these creatures far more easily than a European could do. They are employed, therefore, to hunt the creatures, and to bring their skins down to the different trading-stations, which the English have set up all through the country.

25

THIRD EVENING.

F. ARNOLD.

Inside that wooden house lay all that the Indian most needed-powder and shot, tea, tobacco, and cotton shirts-and through a hole in the parchment window he could see all these things. He was tired and hungry, for his store of food had come to an end. It would have been easy for him to walk in through the window and take as much as he wanted, but there was a feeling in his heart which kept him from doing this.

He waited for two days outside the house, and at last made up his mind to go on to St. John's, two full days' travel. He set off, but his courage failed him, and he turned back. On the fourth day, as no one came to buy his furs, he thought of a plan. He entered the store; took from the cask of powder three skins' worth, from the tobacco and the shot, three skins' worth, and put into each place the proper number of marten skins as payment. The remaining skins he hung up on a nail and left there, trusting to receive goods in exchange for them at some future time, and then he went away.

Now this poor Indian was only a heathen; he had never been taught to be honest, or told "Thou shalt not steal." He had never even heard that there is a God looking down | from Heaven upon every man, and watching to see whether he will do what is right. But though the Indian had never heard of his Father in Heaven, yet God was caring for him, and speaking to him, as He speaks to each one of us, by that little voice which we call Conscience." It is that same Voice which checks us when we would do wrong, and stirs us up to do right, reminding us that we are never alone, but that we are living and acting and speaking before our Father in Heaven.

Only let us take care that we listen to the Voice and obey it, as did the poor Indian at

Opening Hymn: "A little ship was on the sea." Lesson: John xxi. 1-14. Concluding Hymn: "Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me."

"He careth for you." That is the truth I want to talk to you about just now. Do you remember the chapter we have just read

the disciples had taken their nets, and gone out in their boat to catch some fish to sell, for they got their living by fishing. But though they worked hard, dragging their nets in the water and lifting them out again and again, not a single fish was caught by them. all the night through; and at last, as daylight was coming, they pulled away towards the land, hungry, and cold, and tired out, with empty boat, not even fish enough for their own breakfast. But they little knew what a surprise was in store. Jesus had been watching them perhaps all night, and knew all about their weariness and disappointment, and in the early morning He gathered some wood together which was lying along the shore and laid it together for a fire and lighted it. Then as the disciples came near the place where the fire was made, He spoke to them, and told them where to put down their nets; and they put them down and drew them up full of fishes. Jesus knew where the fishes were and He told the disciples, because He cared for them, and was sorry they had none. Then they cooked fish on the fire and had breakfast and loving talk together. As long as they lived they would remember that kindness of Jesus; and He always has cared for us. We often find Him doing so in strange and unlooked-for ways. Let me tell you of a case.

Years ago there lived in a country a long way from England a number of people who loved the Bible and worshipped God. Their king, however, had said that it was wrong for them to do so, and made a stern law against it. When the king found out that they were reading the Bible and praying, and thus breaking his wicked laws, he sent a threatening message to them, commanding them to give up their reading and praying at once, or they should be put to death. But they sent an answer back, saying they could not give up the worship of God, but they would willingly obey him in everything else.