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have good right to be; and the people of Selkirk have erected a monument to him in one of their public thoroughfares.

Well, my story goes on to say that Mungo Park was one day travelling away in the heart of Africa, and came in the evening to a negro village. He tried to get lodgings for the night, but no one would take him in. He was poor, and the negroes were afraid of the strange white man. And so he had to content himself with the shelter of a tree. At last, a poor negro woman returning from the labours of the field passed by, and like the Good Samaritan, had compassion on him. She invited him to her hut, broiled a piece of fish for his supper, made him a shakedown in the corner where he might sleep, and then she, with the rest of the family, began their spinning, singing as they did so the following song:

"The wind roared and the rain fell,
The
poor white
faint and weary,
man,
Came and sat under our tree.
Let us pity the poor white man;
He has no mother to bring him milk,
No wife to grind his corn.'

Next morning, when he rose to go away, he did not know how to repay the woman for her kindness, but he cut off some of the few remaining brass buttons of his coat, and presented them to her, as all he had to give. Now, there are some parts of this story I am not quite sure of, but I am sure about the buttons. That was a thing that took my boyish fancy. I remember quite distinctly the African traveller cutting off those buttons, and paying his lodgings with them.

Well, such is the story as I remember it, and although I know you don't like lessons, I am going to give you two for all that. 1. Be proud of your country. It has turned out more great men in proportion to its population than any country in modern times. Especially is it great in travellers. Scotchmen are a wandering race. from Mungo Park to David Livingstone we have contributed far more than our share to the explorers of the world. 2. Let us see how kindness exists even in the heart of

And

Africa. We are apt to think that only people who know the Bible are good, and that people who don't know the Bible must be bad. Think of the Good Samaritan. He did not worship at Jerusalem, and yet he was kinder than some of those who did. Think of the Roman Centurion, and the poor Syro-Phoenecian woman who were recommended by Christ for their faith. Think of the Samaritan leper who returned to thank Christ for healing him while the other nine stayed away. And last of all, think of this poor negro woman in the heart of Africa, who helped Mungo Park without any prospect of reward; and in fact only got for her reward a few brass buttons. Did I say she only got that? I recall the words, for (1) she had the pleasure of helping another, and that is a reward of itself to all good people. (2) She had the blessing of God, for He is always pleased with those who are kind to others. (3) She will be rewarded for it in the day of Final Reckoning, for Christ has said that on that day even a cup of cold water will not go without its reward.

JESUS THE JUDGE.

R. L.

'We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ.'-2 Cor. v. 10.

OW lightly some people think of

the Day of Judgment! And yet all

the descriptions which the Bible gives of it show that some unprecedented trial and exhibition of glory

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is then to take place. It is called a day of destruction,' the day of wrath,' 'the day of perdition,' 'the great day.' And sure enough, a great day it will be when the angel swares that time shall be no more-when the resurrection trumpet shall awaken the dead and call them forth from the graves in which their dust has slept so long, and when Jesus comes on the clouds of heaven attended by the angelic hosts. Let us think of this day; for the more we think of it we will be better prepared for it. Think

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STORIES OF ALEXANDRIA.

men. Once He Himself stood before a judge and was condemned; but now He is exalted to be the Judge of the whole earth.

Ah! what a fearful thought for the sinner, that He who died to save the guilty is now the Judge-that He who offered to bless now condemns. Terrible as the sentence is, it would sound less terrible from any other lips than His. With any

other judge there might be some room for excuse, but there can be none with Him. 'Twas He who knocked at the door of our hearts-He who entreated us, and stretched out His hands to welcome us; and therefore, with Jesus as the Judge, all explanations and excuses will be in vain. But think

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II.

OF THE Judged.

We must all appear." All without exception. Our teachers and parents-our companions in sin, and those whom we may have enticed to sin-those whom we have wronged and those by whom we have been wronged. All! You will be there, but upon which side of the Judge ?-the right hand or the left? Among which band? the sheep or the goats? The answer to these questions lies with yourself. Think

III. OF THE JUDGMENT.

1. It is based upon a thorough investigation. God keeps a record of everything that we do. Our secret as well as our open sins our thoughts as well as our words are written down in His book of remembrance, and the Judge will not need witnesses to confirm the evidence, for our own hearts will condemn us. Are you prepared for such investigation? Would you not blush if all the thoughts which passed through your mind yesterday, and all the deeds you committed were to be told out to your friends? But this record will reveal before an assembled universe the thoughts and actions of your whole life, and by these you will be judged, for we are each to receive according to that we have done, whether it be good or bad.

2. It is conducted by impartial justice. The Judge will show special favour to none-He is no respecter of persons. He

will dispose of each case upon its own merits. He will take into account the fact that all have not had the same advantages, but He will act upon the principle that to whom much is given much shall be required. And consider how much will be required of you, with all your advantages. Ah! it will be more tolerable in the day of judgment for the heathen, and for those who have not been born in a Christian land, than it I will be for us. Great mercies now will bring heavy judgments then.

3. It is followed by a sentence that is unalterable. In courts of justice an appeal is allowed to a higher court, and sometimes the decision of one judge is reversed by another; but from the sentence of this Judge there will be no appeal.

And what is the sentence?-to those on His right hand, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father; to those on His left, depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire.'

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But He has not yet taken His seat as Judge-He is still a Saviour, still waiting to pardon and receive the sinner. At Nazareth, you remember that He read from the book of Isaiah a remarkable passage about Himself, and all at once, in the middle of a verse, He stopped and shut the book. If He had read on, it would have been about the day of the vengeance of our God.' When the books are opened He will begin where He left off and proceed to the judgment, but as yet the book is shut and His work is to save. Has He saved you? Do you wish Him to do so? He is willing if you are. Accept Jesus— the Saviour and then you will have no dread when called to stand before Jesusthe Judge.

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STORIES OF ALEXANDRIA.

'Let us come to the orchard, grandpapa? said Maidie, very proudly and tenderly holding his hand while she walked. 'Very well, little one, you are my guide, you know.'

But first I must run back and tell grand-mamma. Will you wait for me, grand-papa?

'Yes, birdie, I shall wait here.' So little Maidie was gone-herself the brightest sunbeam in the garden, grand-papa thought -as he watched the little eager face flash past the lilies and the butterflies.

Presently there reached him the sound of voices and laughter together, and then Maidie re-appeared, and grand-mamma and Johnnie with her. Maidie carried a rug and Johnnie carried two garden chairs-which was the cause of the laughter that had greeted grand-papa.

So the little group moved slowly along till they came to the sunshiny spot which Maidie had chosen in the orchard. Then the chairs were set for grand-papa and grand-mamma, and the rug was spread upon the grass at their feet for Johnnie and Maidie's benefit. And the soft sunshine touched them all-not warm enough to scorch-for it was still that lovely May time which is like the kiss of the year. A shower of apple blossom fell in Maidie's lap when a low wind came from the west with just the sweetest windy sigh. And little Maidie looking up saw the blue sky between the branches, and grand-mamma's eyes, which were looking up like her own.

But Johnnie was already impatient for grand-papa's story. It was promised to be told in the orchard, and in the orchard they

were now.

'My story is little suited for so quiet a place,' said grand-papa.

"Why?" asked Johnnie.

'Because it is about St. Cyril.'

But if he was called Saint, I suppose he was good,' said Johnnie.

There you are mistaken,' said grandpapa, he was good in no manner.'

Then he was not a saint,' said little Maidie, who did not know many things, but had her own true simple notions of a saint.

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Those who came after him, and were no better than himself called him St. Cyril, and so his name remains to us. But I could not tell you about Alexandria and omit to tell you about him, for he was nearly its most famous Bishop.'

And why was he famous?'

'I should almost say for his wickedness. Yet he was a Bishop of the Christian Church. While very young (it was in the year 412), he was sent to a monastery in Egypt to be educated by the monks. The Abbot Serapion was his teacher, and the pupil was apt. He is said in one sleepless night to have read the four gospels, the Catholic epistles and the Epistle of Romans. He read unweariedly the writings of the early church, meditated much, and wrote many books of Theology. After five years in the desert of Egypt, he returned to Alexandria. There he became a great preacher. Crowds flocked to the Cathedral to listen to his eloquence. The beauty of his person and the music of his voice charmed his hearers.'

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Yet he was not good, grand-papa?'

'No. I wish I did not need to tell you this but I must. He was no follower of Christ, though he called himself by his name. After the death of his uncle

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Theophilus he was made Bishop of Alexandria. Then his power became immense, and how he used it I would rather not tell you. Five hundred monks of Nitra, wild beasts from the desert,' they have been called, poured into Alexandria to do the bidding of the Bishop. Jews and Greeks were treated with the same ferocity. Their most noted victim was Hypatia, a beautiful Alexandrian lady-whose worth made her loved by all the city, while her wonderful genius and learning drew philosophers to listen to her teaching. Then followed nothing but war-war of words and war of weapons and after a long reign of violence, in June of the year 444 A. D. Bishop Cyril died.

Grand-papa's grave voice ceased. And the blackbird on the apple tree broke again into the floods of musie that filled all the quiet place. And grand-mamma said softly :

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