They are to be kept secure, but with as little restraint as is possible; no feeling of retaliation or of revenge is at work; it is not a case of penal punishment; and therefore the prisoners require only to be guarded and prevented from fighting against us, and need not be subjected to that discipline which is both right and necessary in the case of those who are to be punished in order to their moral improvement, and who are not merely to be guarded, but also disciplined.

Let us, then, when reading the account of all these terrible events, take comfort in tracing the wonderful hand of God, pouring in balm and oil wherever it passes, and lessening the suffering which, for wise reasons, He thinks right to permit, turning the wickedness of some into the opportunity for the exercise of Christian graces in others. Let us take comfort, too, in another truth forcibly placed before us in all the details we read. Our God is no less the God of war than the God of sickness. David says, "Thou shalt not be afraid for the arrow that flieth by day," any more than for "the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the sickness that destroyeth in the noon day." The same Providence which watches over us at home and in peace, watches over us when abroad and in the field of battle. How wonderful is

"The

the power of God! We may indeed well say, Lord God Omnipotent reigneth." The shell is thrown from the cannon's mouth; it comes, we may think, to spread indiscriminate slaughter, but no! still the word of God stands firm, "One is taken, the other left."

"How I escaped unhurt, I know not," says one officer. "The balls were whizzing all round me; one close by me had his head shot off." Another says, "A Russian shell fell close to our assistant-surgeon, the fusee burning, and every one for the moment expected to see him cut to pieces, when the fusee went out. A narrow escape poor fellow had!"

the

The hairs of every head are still numbered, and no one is struck contrary to the will of God. However skilfully man may fire, the ball can only strike when God permits it. He is mighty to save and to protect. This blessed truth brings comfort and consolation to the

anxious and sorrowing friends at home. We must not think of our loved ones as exposed to the chances of war, but commend them in full faith to that same merciful and tender Father who watches over us, and by whose power alone we can rest in peace and safety at home. E. A.

EXTRACT FROM MY FAMILY BIBLE.

ST. MARK xiv. 26–42.

TAKE care what you say you will, or will not, do in matters connected with your Christian duty. Good resolutions are just nothing, or worse than nothing, as we see here, unless watchfulness and prayer be had recourse to. Strong sayings are quite different things from strong doings. A man's spirit under virtuous and high-minded resolves, is not always under the guidance of God's Spirit. Strong words are often nothing more than the breaking out of the weakness of the flesh, as in the case of Peter and the other Apostles. Contrast now the confidence of the disciples with the deep humility of our Lord, who though perfect God, yet as perfect man felt the intense infirmity of man's nature. Man's sin He could not feel, but He felt all man's infirmity, when in his mysterious agony He desired that, if it were possible, the cup of death might pass from Him. While the God-man was praying, the weak disciples, with vehement Peter among them, were sleeping, without a dream even that they might be faithless. A man, so long as he is here below, has need to be ever in the spirit of prayer. He really has in his flesh no good thing that can make him expect to pass a moment out of sin, and therefore looking to Jesus the perfect God-man for his example, and praying for his Holy Spirit, he must live on in a constant warfare with his evil nature, which is always worked upon by the devil. How earnest should be the prayer of the sinful, when Jesus who was without sin poured out such earnest cries to God the Father! It was quite possible with God, to whom nothing is impossible, to have saved the world in another way than through the mysterious sacrifice of his own equal Son, manifest in the flesh; but God was not willing that sin should be otherwise

blotted out. (Matt. xxvi. 42; Luke xxii. 42.) The more we think upon the subject of redemption by Christ the Son of God in man's nature, the more the Holy Spirit will teach us that sin must have been committed by our first parents against the strongest possible convictions, and the brightest understanding, and that it was therefore a thing most abominable to God. Nothing but this could have made it necessary for such a stupendous sacrifice as that of God's own Son in man's nature, and one, too, accompanied with such an awful scene as this in the garden of Gethsemane. Here Christ, whom God always heard, (John xi. 42,) felt obliged to pray as if his Father would not be willing to give Him his life. The Divine Saviour knew the mind of God was fully made up not to save otherwise than by Him in man's nature, but the man Christ Jesus, in the agony of approaching death, in a form most cruel and most humblingly disgraceful, called out in the deepest woe, that, "if it were possible," the hour He so dreaded might pass from Him. In all the circumstances of our Lord's life, we have the spectacle of the greatest humility, for He was God, yet condescended to take our nature upon Him; but here in the garden of Gethsemane we see our Saviour in the most mysterious humility, amazed with fear, heavy with grief, and exceedingly sorrowful unto death, content with the will of God that He should die, though most earnestly praying that, if it were possible, it might be otherwise. Oh, how deeply should we love our God and Saviour who so deeply loved us, and at such a cost to Himself! How earnestly should we pray to understand, as far as it is given us to do so, his act of atonement ! to value it above all things, and to show that we value it by walking in his steps, humbly and faithfully, through all the changing scenes of life, and through all temptations from within and from without, and in the awful but certain hour when our peace, our comfort, our hope, must be the mystery of godliness, God manifest in the flesh, in the person of Christ Jesus, the agonized, the crucified, yet the risen and ascended Saviour and Mediator of all the guilty children of Adam and Eve. A LAYMAN.

CHRISTMAS.

MISS OWEN AND LUCY HARTWELL.

"Glory be to God on high,

And heavenly peace on earth."

Lucy H. Dear me, Miss, ar'nt you going home? Why you have been fagging about the parish all day long.

Miss O. Christmas is a busy time, you know. I have now given out my coal and soup tickets, and have got the names of the old women who are to have flannel; so I am going home as soon as I have had a little chat with

you.

L. H. Any one might envy you, Miss, for having both the will and the power to do good. I often wish I had a little time or money to spend in helping my poor neighbours. At Christmas, particularly, I wish I could show my gratitude to God by love to man.

M. O. You are mistaken if you think that time and money are necessary for that; those that have neither can benefit their poor neighbours in a variety of ways. You, I am sure, are one who, not only at this joyful season, but all the year round, are endeavouring to promote peace and good will among your neighbours. It was only the other day that Mary Reed told me how well you had contrived to make peace between her and her cousin.

L. H. And thankful I was, Miss, to be able to do so. It is dreadful for near relations to pass each other in the street without a word of kindly greeting; and sadder still, in Mary's case, for she always says she is not long for this world. And Christmas seems the time, of all others, to make up little quarrels, and shake hands and be friends; or how can we rejoice as Christians?

M. O. Quite true. Poor Reed! she is very bad today, I hear.

L. H. Some days worse, and some days better, but always ailing. Her mother petted her a good deal, and now her husband over indulges her. He earns good wages at the mill, and they have no children. I some times think it might be better if Mary had to exert herself a little.

M. O. Do you think, then, as some others do, that there is more of fancy than reality in her illness?

L.H. I should be loath to say that; it is a bad charge against any one to say that they feign sickness. God has blessed me with health, so that I am not a good judge. Poor woman! I am sure I pity her, for she has always some new ache or pain to tell of, and often seems half weary of her life.

M. O. Was she always so sickly?

L. H. Yes; she has been taking physic all her life. If it is a fancy, it is a strange fancy, you will allow.

M. O. I must ask the doctor what he thinks about her. L. H. I don't think she has the doctor now, but goes to some quack at Upham.

M. O. If she likes quacking, I think I shall try my hand.

L. H. Why, Miss, are you a doctor as well as every thing else?

M. O. Not a doctor of medicine. I shall try to strengthen her mind, and that will benefit her body. I think, as you do, that she may be better and happier for having something to do, and take off her thoughts from her aches and pains.

L. H. But, Miss, it is so difficult to find any thing that she likes to do, not having to work for a living.

M. O. I am aware of that; but if you will help me I shall not despair. There is a little deaf and dumb girl I want some one to take charge of till she is old enough to go to the Asylum; she is four years old, not a troublesome age. Now, if I can get Mary Reed to keep her, I think it will be the very thing to take her thoughts off herself. The poor little girl would be very happy, I have no doubt.

L. H. That she would, I'll answer for it, Miss; for Mary is a quiet-tempered woman, and fond of petting an animal; so she would be sure to fondle a child. But I am afraid she will think herself not well enough to take the charge of the little child.

M. O. That is why I want you to help me; if you will engage to take her sometimes when you can, without hindering your work, it would get over that objection.