faint yet pursuing.' And if he does so to the end, and through the end, then surely we have fresh reason for believing the truth of the great doctrine of immortal life in Christ beyond the grave. If all is as He promises on this side death-if those who are in Him continue in Him, and rejoice in Him, and live to Him, whatever aspect outward things may turn upon themhave we not fresh reason in all this for believing that on the other side death also all will be as He has promised?

The earthly part of the experiment will soon be over with each. one of us. The journey through the wilderness of Earth and Time is not a long one to any. These 'necessities,' these 'reproaches,' these 'infirmities'-the time is not far off when they will touch us no more. We are living always among last things, and often without knowing that they are the very last. But what matters it? Oh, what matters it to a man in Christ what or when, or where, or how, outwardly, the end here may be? If it come soon, it will be welcome. If it come in calmness, friends will be thankful, and it will seem that the eternal rest has had beginning here. And if it come in tumult and storm and pressure, which seem to drive the life on quickly to its end-this hurrying, darkening current of Providence will, after all, only lift at last the 'man in Christ' into the third heavens-not one transient visit, but into house and home for ever. All-all depends on being 'in Him.'

Yet I should not wonder if there are those who have followed these remarks thus far, but who could go along quite another line than that by which we are travelling, and give utterance to very different sentiments and experiences. . . . One perhaps could say, 'I knew a man not in Christ above fourteen years ago, and that man, after all those years have come and gone, is not in Christ now!' 'Safety and peace and happy memories, and the beginnings of immortal life-I might have had them all during these years-fourteen-or more-or fewer! But I have despised and rejected them all-from what causes I can scarcely tell. It has seemed sometimes as if I must fall at my Lord's feet and say, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" But it has not yet come to this. I know I do not believe in Christ with any real loving trust. No silver-tongued preacher could persuade me of what is not. There is something yet to be done; I have to loose my grasp, and say "go" to all the world. I have to lay hold of the hope set before me. I have sometimes been not far from the kingdom of God, and perhaps I am not far from it now. I see its blessed light in the calm faces of some other men; I feel some outside touches of its peace as we sing and pray together; I declare, honestly, that in all the world I know nothing better than to grow up and live as a

Christian, hoping for and labouring after eternal life in Jesus Christ. And yet I am not in Him. Oh, the sadness I feel! But I hope-God helping me, and the prayers of Christian men helping me to yield to Christ now; and thus I, too, am coming into rest at last.' Amen.

MR. RUSKIN ON CHESS.

AMONG the many subjects upon which Mr. Ruskin expresses his opinions, may now be mentioned billiards and chess. He says that he is greatly interested in the 'dynamics of billiards,' but confesses that he cannot play, and remarks that he deplores the popularity of the game among the lower classes on the Continent. As to chess, he urges his pupils to learn, and says that he enjoys it himself to the point of its becoming a temptation to waste of time often very difficult to resist.' He adds, 'I have really serious thoughts of publishing a selection of favourite old games by chess-players of real genius and imagination, as opposed to the stupidity called chess-playing in modern days. Pleasant "play," truly (1), in which the opponents sit calculating and analyzing for twelve hours, tire each other nearly into apoplexy or idiocy, and end in a draw or a victory by an odd pawn.' Verily Mr. Ruskin is a putter-to-rights of all things, and uses, without respect of persons, his delightful methods of pungent criticism.-Christian World.

We would recommend, in connection with the study of chess, a volume published at ten and sixpence, by Mr. Horwitz, on Chess Studies suited for the beginner and the advanced student; but specially the Chess Monthly, a shilling serial edited by L. Hoffer and J. K. Zukertort. Here we can study the various ⚫ openings'-Two Knights' Defence, King's Gambit Declined, French Defence, Ruy Lopez, Vienna Opening, etc. It is edited with rare skill and care, contains a list of the special prizes for the International Tournament Problem, with records of provincial club matches. Altogether it is manifest that this intellectual and excellent 'home' game is increasing its disciples in England, and provided that it is kept like all pleasures in healthy subordination to duty, it is a right noble game. Students of the Chess Monthly will do well to follow out the games which have the illustrated positions' printed in every number.

KINDNESS in Woman, not her beauteous looks, shall win my love.Shakespeare.

A SISTER OF MERCY.

BY THE REV. AVERELL RAMSEY.

In this sometimes selfish world deeds of kindness are like wells in the desert, yielding refreshment and joy to the thirsty wayfarer. One's heart is cheered and gladdened by the record of so beautiful an act of pure pity as that recently witnessed in the French capital.

A poor old woman was singing in the streets, in hope of receiving alms. Feeble and faltering, as her steps along the city roadway, were the notes of song she poured into the air. Not by melody, but by the miserable absence of it, was she likely to excite the compassion of passers-by. Wearily trudging, her progress was slow, her voice grew husky, and nobody seemed to notice her pitiable plight. Imploringly she cast her eyes towards the windows of houses on either side, but there was not an answering face-not a gleam of charity in any of them. At length, exhausted by fatigue and whelmed in despair, she sunk down upon the pavement, silent and faint-ready to perish.

Happily she had not been altogether unobserved. There were eyes that had watched her painful, fruitless efforts. There was a heart touched with the feeling' of her wretchedness and

woe.

A pupil of the Paris Conservatoire, a bright young girl named Drousert, was looking on; and, at the moment in which the old woman's strength and courage failed, this ministering angel stood by her side, stooped over her prostrate form, and cheered her with words of sympathy.

But what was to be done? Kind words are as balm to a wounded spirit, but they will not fill an empty purse, or relieve the pangs of pinching hunger.

The tender-hearted girl had little worldly substance. All the money she could earn, as yet, was insufficient to do more than keep herself from want. Nevertheless, her penury was not allowed to hinder help for the hapless vagrant. Without impropriety she might have said, 'Silver and gold have I none; but what I have, that give I thee.'

Taking the forlorn woman by the hand and lifting her up, she proceeded down the street, holding the withered hand in hers, and pouring forth a song which roused the neighbourhood.

The fresh, clear, beautiful voice of the girl drew a crowd of listeners. She sang with all the fervour of an enthusiasm born of compassion for the needy creature by her side, As the song continued the thoroughfare became thronged. Even the win

dows, that had seemed so grim and tenantless, were now smiling with delighted faces and thrown open by an eager, enraptured audience. And, when the cadence of the melody indicated the close of the benevolent appeal, there came such a shower of silver as is seldom rained upon the parched soil of poverty. With seventy francs in her hand, the poor old woman, trembling in wonder and thankfulness, was sent on her way rejoicing.

Who will blame her if she cherishes the belief that her succour came from the skies-that it was an angel who stooped with a song from among the celestials, to brighten her gloomy path and befriend her in her hour of need?

Without doubt there were elements of 'heaven-born charity' in the bosom of this pitiful benefactress. She was a true sister of mercy. The narrative of her benevolent deed reads like a modern version of our Lord's parable of the Good Samaritan ; and the moral may be urged in the very words of Christ, 'Go, AND DO THOU LIKEWISE.'

How may it be done? How may a genuine flow of compassion be assured when the occasion arises demanding it?

Human nature will not yield it, and must not be relied on. Natural impulse is fitful and uncertain; now, intensely selfish; anon, foolishly extravagant; yet again, coldly indifferent.

A merciful heart is the gift of Divine grace; and wherever found there will be

'A tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity.'

Indeed, mercy is a word which in its root is akin to misery. If it be derived from misericordia it means literally pain of heart, and may be explained as 'another's pain or misery laid to heart.' When an object of distress affects the beholder's heart with tender feeling, mercy flows thence.

The Great Father in heaven is MERCIFUL. His heart continually yearns over human wretchedness, want and woe. 'He delighteth in mercy.' In Jesus Christ He has manifested 'His great mercy' towards perishing sinners, and has also given us an example of how we should show mercy one to another.

Hence the New Testament expressly enjoins the duty of compassion. To all who accept its precepts as their rule of life it says: Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted '-' Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you'-' Be ye merciful, even as your Father is merciful;' while it points to ONE who in the riches of an overflowing benevolence 'went about doing good.' It tells of the compassionate Christ Who 'emptied Himself' that He might fill all things;' who fed the hungry, healed the sick, consoled the miserable, wept with the bereaved,

and completed a ministry of unexampled self-sacrifice by laying down His life for His enemies!

Of Him we are to learn, and in His footsteps tread. At the foot of His cross, trusting in Him as the propitiation for our sins,' we shall find selfishness expire and receive power through His Spirit to live as He lived.

Christianity is benevolence. If we possess the mind of Christ, the sight of human misery, in whatsoever form, will always affect our hearts; and we shall be ready, at the sacrifice of personal convenience, time, wealth, social position, nay, even at the risk of life, to rescue the perishing and upraise the fallen.

Reader, be you Christ-like. Drink deeply of His Spirit, that you may be a brother born for adversity, or a true sister of mercy. Then you will not be content to cast your offering into the charity-box, or send your donation to the alms-house. You will visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,' and help to dry up some of those tears, the last of which is reserved for God's own hand to wipe away.

THE STYLE OF THE EPISTLE OF ST. JUDE.

THE style of the Greek-which was no doubt the language in which this letter was originally written-is exactly such as we should expect from one to whom Greek was not so familiar as his native Aramaic, but who still writes with a passion which gives force and eloquence to his words. It is the language of an Oriental who knows Greek, partly by reading and partly by having moved among Hellenistic communities, but whose vocabulary is far richer and more powerful than his grammar. The words are Greek words, and sometimes rare, forcible, and poetic; but the whole colouring and tone of thought recall the manner of the Hebrew prophets, in whose writings St. Jude must have been trained during his youth in the humble and faithful house of Joseph at Nazareth. The most remarkable trace of this Hebraic structure is shown in the extraordinary fondness of the writer for triple arrangements. In pausing to tell us that Enoch was the seventh from Adam, he at once shows his interest in sacred numbers, and throughout his Epistle he has scarcely omitted a single opportunity of throwing his statements into groups of three. Thus those whom he addresses are sanctified, kept, elect, and he wishes them mercy, love, peace; the instances of Divine retribution are the Israelities in the wilderness, the fallen angels, and the cities of the Plain; the dreamers whom he denounces are corrupt, rebellious, and railing; they have walked in the way of Cain, Balaam, and Korah; they are murmurers, discontented, self-willed; they are boastful, partial, greedy of gain; they are separatists, egotistic, unspiritual. Lastly, they are to be dealt with in three classes, of which one class is to be refuted in disputation, another saved by effort, and the third pitied with detestation of their sins. But saints are to pray in the spirit, keep themselves in the love of God, and await the mercy of Christ; and glory is ascribed to God before the past, in the present, and unto the farthest future.From The Early Days of Christianity' for June.