it is Horatio Nelson. The reason I have chosen him is because he was brave, and we can learn what a good thing bravery is when turned to a proper use.

Nelson was born more than one hundred years ago, in the year 1758. It was not long before his fearless nature showed itself.

When very young, he went off one day bird-nesting with a cow-herd. Dinner-time came, and no signs of Horatio; the family got alarmed; a search was made, and after a time they found him contentedly sitting on the bank of a stream. 'I wonder,' said his grandmother, 'that fear, if not hunger, did not drive you home.'-'Fear! grandmamma,' answered the child, 'I never saw fear: who is he?'

Another story shows that his courage was of the best kind, because it did not make him forgetful of others. There was a shoemaker who had a pet lamb. Nelson used to visit the shoemaker, and one day in going out he accidentally crushed the lamb with the door. His pity for the animal was very great, and he was quite unhappy till it recovered from its hurt. I would like the boys who read this to try to be like Nelson in this respect. Be gentle as well as brave, and never make your strength the cause of pain to any of God's creatures. Above all, never be such cowards as to tease blind people, or to laugh at those who are lame and helpless.

After some years, Nelson went to a boarding-school. It was during his stay there that a well known event occurred. There was a pear-tree at the school, and the boys had been accustomed to get the fruit. One day however they were told that the pears were to be kept for the master's

use.

At this the boys were very angry, and resolved that they would not be deprived of what they considered was their right. When the fruit was ripe, one night in their bed-room they discussed how they might get it. The tree was under the window, but too far below for them to reach without some one being lowered. Who was to risk the danger? All seemed afraid till Nelson offered to go. The sheets were

tied together, and with a bag for the pears, he was let down by the boys in the room. Having secured the fruit, he returned in safety. The spoil was divided, but when Nelson was offered his share he refused it. 'I only went,' he said, 'because the rest of you were afraid.' Now it was not right of the boys to take the pears. The tree did not belong to them." But the incident shows the courage of our hero. Let us imitate him in his courage, but let us also see that we put it to a proper use.

When fourteen years old, Nelson went with the expedition to the Arctic regions to try to find the north-west passage. Here he showed the same fearlessness. Along with a companion he went to try to kill a polar bear; a mist came on, and when their absence was observed in the ship, the captain became very uneasy in case they had met with an accident. By and by the mist cleared away, and Nelson was seen a short distance from the ship, standing with gun lifted ready to strike at the first chance -a bear which was on the opposite side of a narrow channel. His gun had failed to go off, so he was meaning to try what a blow on the head would do. Probably if they had come to close quarters the bear would have proved the victor; but the captain, seeing the danger, fired a gun and frightened away the animal. When Nelson returned, he was reproved for his rashness. defence was that he wanted the skin to send to his father-another proof of his thoughtfulness for others.

His

Here our account of this famous boy ends. The close of his life was in keeping with its beginning: he died at Trafalgar bravely fighting for his country. It was before this battle that he made his famous signal, England expects every man to do his duty.' It was a noble motto-well fitted to nerve the men to fight. But the truth is of wider meaning than merely at a battle. Not less true is it, my readers, that England expects you, both boys and girls, to do your duty. Still more, God expects it of you. Try then to live noble lives, try to do your duty at all times, and then you will find the purest joy.

J. M'M.

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Far north in India, near the great Ganges canal is a town that is called Roorkee. It is not a large town, yet a town of some importance with a great Government workshop in it, and a college, and Ganges Canal Works. And many pilgrims pass through it to the shrines of northern India. In this distant little town live two ladies of whom it is said, 'Many through all the future will have reason to praise God for their service of prayer and song.'

They are the daughters of Dr. Campbell, the honoured missionary who is lying not fifty miles away among the Bignolio trees of the little church-yard at Saharanpur.

For thirty-eight years Dr. Campbell was a medical missionary in India. For him the little church was built. Men whose faithful lives are the fruit of his long work are scattered over India, serving God and Christ. His daughters, with gentle trust, took the thread which dropped from his hand, and are living their devoted lives as he lived his.

In the fearful time of famine their hands and hearts were full. Crowds of pilgrims went through the town to distant heathen shrines, and left dead and dying ones wherever they passed along.

One morning the ladies were going to their school in the bazaar. Their carriage had broken down; so they were walking along the road-which was an unusual circumstance, for the great heat in India makes it almost impossible for any except natives to walk out of doors. But thus it was they found the first little charge whom God had sent them to take.

As they passed the canal bridge they saw close to one of its piers a little bundle lying. They sent the Bible-woman who was with them to see what it was. They themselves passed on to their school in the bazaar. For the school hours had come and the pupils would be waiting.

The school was at the entrance to the bazaar, in a large upper room which overlooked the canal. It had a small beginning, but had rapidly increased-increased beyond expectation. And now many a

bright face greeted them with love and smiles from under the pure white chaddar which enveloped the small person. For the chaddar is the white drapery worn so gracefully round the head and figure, and making such a picquant contrast with the dark face it surrounds.

Some of the children were of the higher classes, and so prettily dressed as to make the poorer little ones feel shy if sitting side by side with them in their own poor clothes. So the Misses Campbell made ready a supply of pretty chaddars. They kept these in the school, that each poor little one before she entered her class, might array herself in white, and sit without disgrace among the rest of the children.

Very soon they found what a happy plan they had hit on. The rich and poor met together in their busy happy schoolroom. And perhaps the pure vesture provided by the gentle thought of the ladies, unconsciously helped onward some little wanderer who had come in her soiled raiment. Perhaps she the better felt the sweet peace and purity of the lessons these ladies taught-learning how, in Christ's kingdom there are no rich nor poor, but how all must wear the same garments of inward purity, love, and utter trust.

At least, the class was the brighter and better for the pure and pretty chaddars which always lay ready in the school-house.

They were busy and happy hours which were spent within its walls.

First there was the morning prayer, when the little dark-skinned children knelt with closed eyes and clasped hands, and joined in the sweet Our Father.' Then the glad hymn which the children sang so joyfully to the accompaniment of the harmonium played by one of the Misses Campbell.

Nothing gave them more joy than those dear hymns, familiar and sweet to us at home, new and sweet to them :

'Abide with me, fast falls the eventide!' 'Here we suffer grief and pain!' And many of Mr Sankey's hymns and some of Miss Havergal's.

How sweetly the child voices blent in their native Hindee, the familiar thoughts and melodies of these sacred strains.

Then they had regular lessons in their own language and in English. The last half-hour of each day was spent in knitting and sewing.

As pretty and pleasing as possible this Indian school was made. There were bright flowers on the verandah; over it hung a banner, with the motto, 'God bless our school.'

But you wait. You grow weary little reader. You are asking, 'What was the little bundle under the canal bridge?'

When the ladies went home from school they were soon told. They found lying in their home a poor wasted thing—a girl five or six years old-little of her left but the dark skin, and the poor small feeble bones. She was lying seeming nearly unconscious, and almost dead from famine.

'She cannot live. It is quite impossible,' said those who knew well what the fearful hunger meant.

But the Misses Campbell would not give up hope. They fed her from hour to hour as a little babe is fed. The tender care and the sweet home-rest brought back the wasted life. The little Indian outcast opened her faint eyes to find, not the desolate canal bridge where she had closed them to die, but a dear home, and the tender care of love.

Soon Hufizen, for that is the little one's name, was a bright and happy child, and told her sad infantine story as well as she could.

Her mother had been seized with cholera on the roadside. Her sister Salamin had gone for help and left the little one to watch. But no help came in time to save the poor mother. She died on the dreary wayside with her little helpless child watching her alone.

A crowd of pilgrims came along. The sister had not returned. The poor little desolate frightened thing left her dead mother's side and wandered along in the crowd. Then the baby feet failed; and she,

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too, was left to die alone on the bank where the Bible-woman found her.

Often the little motherless one spoke about the sister Salamin who had gone and never come back, with a child-regret and longing to see her again.

But child-sorrows are short. And she gave the love of her heart to the kind ladies who had been to her mother and sister both. Soon she was strong enough to go out with them, and the roundness of childhood was already coming to her little face and form.

She had been a month in her new home, when one day she was with the Misses Campbell on the canal bridge, close to the spot where she was found. Suddenly she left their side, and threw herself into the arms of a girl who rushed forward to meet her. The mutual tenderness of the meeting made her friends quickly guess the truth. This was the lost sister; this was Salamin.

But my letter grows too long. Next month you shall hear the story of Salamin and Hufizen, and another little dark girl who is called Durga.

They are in England now, being taught, that they may go back when they are old enough and teach among their own people. Hufizen is a little chubby, bright-faced thing, with the most winning ways and most boundless, simple trust in God.

Remember these dark little Indian blossoms among the May flowers of your English and Scottish homes.

Good-bye, dear little friends. H. W. H. W.

PRIZE BIBLE QUESTIONS. THREE Prizes are offered for the largest number of. correct answers to the Questions during 1880. The Competition is limited to those under 14 years of age. The answers to be sent to the REV. JOHN KAY, 2 Cumin Place, Grange, Edinburgh, by the 25th of each month.

13 What expressive figure describes, in three words, the sufferings of Israel in Egypt?

14 What similar expression is used by the apostle Peter to describe the afflictions of the people of God?

15 What great sufferer got relief from his own trouble when he prayed for others?