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PRIZE SCRIPTURE ACROSTICS AND QUESTIONS.

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John Walker, Glasgow. Mary J. Veitch, Edinburgh. Mary M'C. Alexander, Edinburgh. John M'Farlane, Glasgow. K. M. Taylor, Glasgow. Mary Johnstone, Dumfries. Beatrice Johnstone, Dumfries. Robert Jas. Johnstone, Belfast Tina M'C. Alexander, Edinburgh. Lizzie Hoy, Dundee. Dora J. E. Johnston, Tyrone. Emma J. G. M'Lees, Wishaw.

PRIZES FOR BIBLE QUESTIONS, 1877.

IN intimating the names of those who have been successful in the competition for the above-mentioned prizes, it is interesting to note how well-sustained the competition has been throughout the year. In the Senior class, especially, while the Questions have been of more than ordinary difficulty, the exertions of the competitors have manifested an amount of anxious searching of the Word of God which cannot but result in an enlarged acquaintance with the Book of books. During 1878, the Bible Class will be continued with the following changes. A Series of Scripture Acrostics, varied with Questions in the form employed since the commencement of the 'Dayspring,' will be given each month. It has been deemed advisable also that, instead of having a Senior and Junior Class, there should be only one class, embracing young people up to fourteen years of age.

Intimation may be made further on in the jear, of some kind of work which will call forth the energies of those who are more advanced.

The following list will show how close, in many instances, the competitors have come to each other. We give the number of marks up to 20.

SENIOR DIVISION—First Prize—32 Marks. Marion Love, Liverpool. Esther Panting, Staffordshire.

Secoxd Prize—31 Marks. Ada C. Balfour. Edinburgh. Mary L. Balfour, Edinburgh. James Murdoch, Port-Glasgow. Laura Panting.Chelsey Vicarage. Maria M. Scobic, Lairg. Louisa M. Thomson, Moffat.

TniRD Prize—30f Marks. Robert Gilmour, Glasgow. Annie C. Lowe, Edinburgh.

JUNIOR DIVISION—First Prize—32 Marks. Harry Rainy, Edinburgh. Jessie|Ann YoungtEdinburgh.

Second Prize—293 Marks. Jessie C. Lowe, Edinburgh.

Third Prize—29 Marks. Lilly Murdoch, Port-Glasgow. Agnes Sherwood, Stranraer. Sarah Ann Wilson, Aberdeen.

The following list contains the names of those whose marks amount to 20 and upwards:—

Senior.—John Johnston, 30. Helena M.Anderson, 29. Matthew Woodrow, 29. Katie S. Hacdougall, 28|. Marion J. Philip, 28. Jessie Donaldson, 28, Elizabeth Spittal, 28. Robert A. Moody, 27J. Georgina Mac

dougall, 27§. Jessie Buchanan, 27$. Helen J. Balfour, 27$. George B. Sherwood, 27. Barbara H. Sutherland,

27. Helen Rodger, 27. Robert Jack, 26J. John W. Tait, 26j. Kate Wilson, 26. William Sneddon, 26. Malcolm M'Callum, 25J. Elizabeth M'Callum, 25J. Janet Sturgeon, 25. Maria Sturgeon, 25. Agnes Agnew, 25. F.llen J. Dixon, 24. Agnes Thompson, 23J. Robert Galloway, 23. Robert J. Johnstone, 23. David James, 22. John Slater, 22. Mary M'Master, 21. James B. Caldwell, 20J. Wm. P. Burn, 20.

Junior.—Robert S. G. Anderson, 28. Louisa E. Dixon,

28. James Law, 27jj. George Martin, 273. Matthew Slater, 27. Ella Love, 27. Edith C. Balfour, 263. Thomas M'Callum, 26. Ella Cameron, 26. John N. Balfour, 25J. Maggie Douglas, 25. Flora M. Davidson, 25. Ellen Holmwood, 25. Matthew Johnstone, 25. Margaret C. and Alice Tait, 25. Eliza M. Hunter, 25. Susie Milne, 24. Bessie M'Lennan, 24. Annie W. Rodger, 23. Maggie Y. M'Master. 23. Agnes Jackson, 22. John G. Anderson, 21. Mary W. Falconer, 20. Agnes Falconer, 20.

IJrijE Jsmpiurt ^crosiks anir (^utsiious.

Competitors not to be above fourteen years of age? and the answers must be honestly the work of tho individuals competing.

All answers to be sent, with the name and address of the competitor, not later than the 18th of each month, to the Rev. John Kay, Coatbridge.

No. 1. A JEWISH ruler much opprss3ed with .", grief:

An arrant, hypocrite whose end was brief;
A priest who prophe&ied of coming doom;
A man who to God's service lent his room;
A village laden with lovo's sweet perfume.

Those five initials, joined, will tell of one
Whoso race seemed short when it had well-
nigh run.
Though grievous folly marked his early course,
He learned, in later years, a nobler force.
Ceasing from earth, his spirit strove with

heaven, Till, blessed by God, and soon by man forgiven, His life, though chequered with unnumbered

woes, Grew bright and beauteous ere its solemn close; As stream that, rushing down the mountain

side, Spurns each impediment with seeming pride, Then, broadening soon more tranquil it

appears, Blessing the banks its bounteous bosom cheers, Till, lost at length in ocean's sounding shore, It swells the song that echoes evermore.

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How swiftly the glittering brook runs by! Pur - su - ing its bus - y ca - reer,

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Re - fleet . ing the beams of the cheerful sun, In waters transparent and clear;

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Kissing the reeds and the low - ly flow'rs, Eefreshing the roots of the trees;

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Happy all summer to ripple a song; In winter too busy to freeze.

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Too busy to freeze, Too busy to freeze, Too busy, too busy to freeze.

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HAEEY'S VOYAGE.

"tTTE are familiar with the thought that »■ the England of to-day is not the England of a hundred years ago. Time, the Destroyer of many old and venerable usages and customs, becomes, as he advances—at least in the estimation of the men and women of the present—Time, the Improver. In almost every particular we observe a gradual and silent change. To take a single instance, suggested by the picture before us, how great an advance in art and skilled labour is represented by our ships of war. Look back to the rude boats and war galleys of olden times; look back even to what our fathers, with a pardonable pride, were wont to call the wooden walls of England, and contrast them with the magnificent Ironclads and War Vessels that protect us from a foreign invasion.

The central figure in our picture could tell a story of yet greater change, and more real improvement, in far shorter time. Our friend Harry there, resting on that gun, looking out with his clear eye on the blue waters of the Mediterranean, the picture of manly independence—how trig and comfortable and happy he seems! To look at him, you would hardly recognise the wild boy of the streets, who lived, but a few years back, a very Ishmael, his hand against every man, and every man's hand against him. Jfo kind mother to care for him; a drunken father only to repel him from his door; no man regarding him or caring for his soul, till the law, which in these hundred years is changed too, and is no longer vindictive but philanthrophic, laid hold of him. And so Harry, brought before the magistrate, had the good fortune to be sent, much against his own will, to a training ship. There, with kind hearts around him, and softening influences of love and gentleness, with many a prayer, the iron was welded into shape. The misdirected energies of his boy-life found their proper sphere; and when the captain was offered a post in the navy for one of his boys, there was" none whom he deemed

worthier than Harry. And now, a gunner's boy, on board Her Majesty's Ship Tornado, he is steaming for Besika Bay, under orders to protect British interests. Let us hope he will go no further. There are higher than British interests involved in this great struggle in the East—the interests of humanity and justice; and these, we trust, will ever hold the first place in a Briton's heart.

This terrible war, which has desolated some of the fairest countries of Europe, and has already slain its thousands, has, at the same tim«, shown that the heart of Britain beats true to the call of humanity. Whatever may be the thought and wish of some of our public men, the great heart of the nation bleeds in sympathy with our oppressed fellow-Christians, whose battle is being fought. We cannot doubt that the end will be freedom for the oppressed, deliverance for the captive. The arm of the oppressor shall be laid low; and though it has been in storm and tempest, yet the voice of the Lord has been heard, and the end shall be peace.

What are Harry's thoughts as he looks out over the sea? Thoughts, doubtless, of the past, which seems now so very far away—thoughts of the present, full of thankfulness and tranquil peace—thoughts of the future too. For Harry has entered on another voyage than that in which you see him. He has another port than any earthly port to make for. It is this that makes Harry so happy—that lends swiftness to his foot, and readiness to his hand, when any of his mates require his help. He has learned the royal maxim,-to do to others as he would bo done to himself. And it is thus he sails the sea. He knows that he may look for storm and tempest, but the Bible is the chart he sails by; and when the storms of life are past, there is a haven of rest and peace.

'God speed the bark, dear friend, that bears
Thee onward to thy destined home;
Though storm and tempest round thee rage,
Be Christ the helmsman of thy bark.
The storm shall pass, the sunshine break,
And thou hast reached the land of rest.'

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THE figure of a stork is carved on some buildings in a village in Norway, and an interesting legend is told concerning its origin.

It is said that long ago a stork came to that village every summer, and built its nest near the cottage of a poor widow and her son. Conrad, the boy, often fed the bird, and became very fond of it. As soon as he became old enough, Conrad went to sea, for he wished to earn money to provide for his mother, as well as for himself. His first voyage was a successful one; but on his second voyage, the ship he was in was seized by pirates, and poor Conrad was landed on the shores of Africa, and there sold into slavery.

One day, while toiling in the fields, sad and lonely, he saw a stork coming towards him; and when it came near, to his astonisment, Conrad recognised the same stork that he had often fed and played with in

his own much-loved, but far distant homeThe frequent visits of the stork cheered him in his solitude, and many a time he saved a portion of his own scanty meal to feed the stork. Its companionship revived his spirit, and awoke in his mind a faint hope of deliverance from his sad captivity. He remembered that when summer days came the bird would fly away to his old home in Norway; and he wondered if it would not be possible for him to send a message to his mother by it. Getting a small scrap of paper, he wrote his name upon it, and the name of the place where he was toiling as a slave. This he wrapped round the bird's leg and tied it with a string.

The stork returned to the old spot in

Norway, and the poor widow fed it for her

son's sake. While doing so she observed

something on the bird's leg, and untying

| the string she read her own son's writing

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