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"If you know your New Testament, sir, you will remember that Jesus said, 'This is my body,' when He instituted the Holy Eucharist."

"Pardon me once more, madame; but have you, in the procession which just passed, the true memorial of the institution even, to say nothing of what is signified by it?"

"How, sir?" she asked.

"I saw nothing but a wafer; whereas, even if you count that wafer bread, there certainly ought to have been wine to have reminded us of the symbols used in the Lord's Supper."

"Symbols!" she replied warmly; "we are not having to do with symbols now; that was the body of our Lord which was carried by. Did he not say, 'This is my body ?'" she said, with tears in her eyes.

"Did he not say also,' I am the door;' but, madame, if a door had been carried past you just now, instead of bread, would you have counted that the body of our Lord?"

There was nothing very striking in the illustration, but, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, it went home at once to the heart of Madame Beauvais. It was one of those words in season which so few' speak, but which, when wisely spoken, become as nails fastened in a sure place. In this case they were never dislodged. The French lady went home to think and pray; to read her New Testament afresh, and to review her religious belief. The result was that she renounced the faith in which she had been brought up, and of which she had been so bright an ornament. She became one of the most earnest Protestants in her city. She was not less devout or less zealous in good works. A kinder friend to those in distress, a more generous supporter of colporteurs, of struggling evangelists, and of the friends of religion generally, there could not have been. Journeying through the city where her memory is still fragrant, we heard her story some years before war and famine had blighted the fair fields of France.

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If God has blessings in store for us, he will not suffer us to rest, until he brings us into possession of them.

Are you in the way of temptation? hasten with all speed out of it: remember Abraham, David, and Peter.

Most of our comforts grow up between crosses.

God will certainly humble thee before he honours thee, for his word says, "Before honour is humility."

Covered sins will one day expose to shame.

If God's word makes me pray, it is evident the Holy Spirit has been with me while reading it.

There is only one place where God's justice cannot reach us, and that is, in God's Ark, Christ Jesus.

He that refuses to be led by the hand of mercy, may expect to be driven by the sword of justice.

When afflictions have done their work, God will recall them.

The Lord Jesus is a stone of stumbling to every self-righteous sinner; but to the believer He is the Stone of help.

When one sin is admitted, it is generally found that it hath a companion waiting at the door; and the former will work hard to gain admission for the latter.

The eye of a sinner's faith is sure to meet the eye of God's favour.

If God has prepared the kingdom for you, He will prepare you for the kingdom ; and if you are under preparation, you are very anxious and concerned that God should carry on His work.

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|3rg &om; or, "He'll bt so sorts.''

IG Tom was the village blacksmith at Farley, and well he deserved his name; for if not a head and shoulders taller than any one else in it, he certainly was a head taller, and large and strong in proportion. "Samson," the boys sometimes called him, but not within his reach; for the blow of his brawny arm was a punishment not to be lightly risked. But Big Tom was noted for other things besides his great size. He was seldom heard to speak without cursing and swearing, and as to sabbath-breaking, the only difference he made between Sunday and week days was that on week days he spent the mornings at the smithy and only the evenings at the public house, whereas on Sundays he spent the whole day there, talking, reading the papers, and drinking. Once the minister tried to speak to him, telling him what his end would certainly be if he did not repent. But so hardened in his wickedness was Tom, that he only replied, that "he'd rather go to hell than to church any day, and that if he came preaching to him again, he'd give him a keepsake to take away with him," meaning thereby that he'd give him a blow! So with a sad heart the good man left him, determined that though he could not speak to him, he would pray for him.

Bad as he was, however, there was one good point about Big Tom, in spite of his violence of temper' he was not cruel, and he disliked cruelty in others. He had a particular tenderness for very young children, and for animals, and woe to the boy or girl who, within sight or hearing of the smithy, dared to hurt or torment a child younger than themselves, or to worry the ugliest dog or cat in the village; a storm of abuse, and a good shaking were the most merciful of Big Tom's punishments, and no one who tried them once seemed inclined for a second.

But trouble came to Big Tom. One day, as he was shoeing a horse, a spark flew into its eye; it was frightened, became restive, and gave him such a violent kick in his side that, strong as he was, he fainted on the spot. It was not easy, when the doctor came, to bring him to again; and it was harder still to take him home, the least move gave him such terrible pain: and I don't think the doctor could ever have been able to examine the hurt, which proved to be both severe and serious, but that he gave him chloroform, and while he was insensible he did what was necessary.

The days that followed were terrible, and how his poor little meek wife managed to live through them is more than I can tell. He seldom spoke except to curse. He cursed his wife, and he cursed the nurse; who, except out of pity for his wife, would not have stayed a second night. He cursed the horse that kicked him, and swore he would be revenged on it yet. He cursed the neighbours who came to see him, and he cursed those who stayed away. Worst of all he cursed the doctor,—cursed him to his face and behind his back,—because he would not allow him one drop of spirits of any kind, so that at last the doctor began to think that if this continued much longer he would certainly die; the hurt could never heal, while he was in such a continuous passion.

But a change came. One day, after he had had a long sleep, Big Tom awoke, and to his utter amazement saw a lady sitting beside him—young, pretty, and kind-looking— with a small basket beside her. Big Tom rubbed his eyes, and wondered who she was? where she came from? and what brought her there? The lady saw his surprise, and said pleasantly, " I'm glad you have had such a nice sleep, and as soon as you have eaten what I have brought, you may ask me any questions you please." Not a word did Big Tom say; for the first time in his life he felt too shy to speak; so the lady opened her basket, took out a large cup of delicious jelly, and two or three biscuits, and fed Tom like a baby. "Now," she said, when he had finished, "wouldn't you like to know who I am?" Still he didn't speak, so she went on: "I'm the doctor's wife, and was only married a few weeks ago. When I was a little girl I was thrown from my horse, and greatly hurt; I was in bed for weeks, hardly able to move, and ever since, when I hear of any one being hurt by a horse, I'm so sorry, and long to go and see them. That is why I came to see you to-day, and if you allow me I'll come again to-morrow, please God, and every day until you are strong and well again. May I come?"

"And sure you may," said Big Tom; "only, I've behaved right bad to the doctor, and maybe he wouldn't let you?" He spoke as if he found it very hard to get out the words.

"Oh! yes, he will," said Mrs. Malcolm; "he was very glad I was coming to-day, so you may expect me. I hope I shall find you better."

"Then I'll watch for you like flowers in winter," said Big Tom, heartily.

"Well," said Mrs. Malcolm, laughing, "this is spring, so I can't give you winter flowers, but here are some sweet roses (and she took a bunch out of her basket). I am so fond of flowers when I am ill, I thought you would like them too, and they'll remind you of my promise of coming to-morrow."

"I'm not likely to forget," said Big Tom to himself. "To think of the like of her coming to see me, and after behaving so bad to her husband too! Won't I make up for it when he comes next. Never an oath shall he hear from me again, no matter what he does to me. To think he'd trust his wife to me when I'd do nothing but abuse him! Well, that's over, any way."

And so it was. Big Tom was gentle as a lamb when the doctor came in the morning, and hardly even groaned, though the pain was very severe. More wonderful still, when the doctor was saying good-bye, he put out his hand in an awkward kind of way, and thanked him for all his kindness, and begged his pardon for having abused him.

"All right," said the doctor, cheerily. "I'll never think of it again, and Mrs. Malcolm bid me say she'd be down about one o'clock."

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