THE STRANGE MOTHER.

N the winter of the year, 1709, there was one of the coldest spells of weather ever known in central Europe. In France a great many people froze to death, even in their beds, not only among the mountains but in villages and cities. The hottest fire was not sufficient to keep the rooms warm; while the stoves were red hot the water would freeze but a few feet from

them. The trees in the forest and by the roadside became so frozen that some of them burst and made a noise as if a small mine had exploded.

Sparrows, and jackdaws, and crows, sometimes fell down while flying in the air. Large flocks of sheep and cattle froze in barn yards. The bats, which usually sleep during the winter, were awakened out of their torpid slumber, fluttered around a little while, and then fell dead on the ground. The deer in the forests could no more run swiftly, but crept slowly out of the woods, and came near the dwellings of men. Finally, spring came, and a multitude of them were found dead in the woods. The little lakes, and brooks, and rivers, after they had been thawed by the sun, emitted a very unpleasant odour, because nearly all the fish in them had been frozen to death. Of course the people suffered from extreme poverty; for the cold weather had destroyed many of their means of support. The wheat that had been sowed in the autumn, their sheep, fowls, fish, and vegetables that had been covered in the ground, were completely destroyed by the frost.

During this winter a poor little Savoyard boy was wandering the streets of Luneville in Lothringid. He was a pitiable orphan. His older brother, who had taken care of him, had now gone on a message to the city of Nancy, to earn a few francs. But he suffered the fate of many travellers, and

was frozen to death, For many of the passengers in the stages, and the riders on horseback, though covered with cloaks and furs, were frozen. The drivers lost their lives, and still held the reins in their stiff hands. The little forsaken Savoyard boy wandered from one house to another to get a little employment, or a piece of bread. He was glad to blacken boots and shoes, dust clothes, clean dishes in the kitchen, or do anything that would gain him a sou. But when night came on his suffering became intense. He had slept with his brother in a carpenter's shop, where the two had covered themselves with an old foot cloth, on which they piled shavings very high. They lay very close together, and by this means managed to be protected from the severity of the cold. But he was now alone, and he would certainly freeze if he tried to sleep alone in the carpenter's shop. The wife of a hostler took compassion on him. She showed him a little sleeping place in one of the stalls in the stable, where the horses of a certain prince were kept. In this stall there stood an iron cage, in which a large brown bear was confined, for the beast was very wild and angry. The little Savoyard boy, who had come in the darkness of night into the stable, neither knew nor cared for any wild beast that might be near by. He lay down upon some straw, and stretched out his hand to pull in more. As he stretched it out he put it between the wires of the cage in which the bear was, and found that a large pile was there. Thinking it was better to get where it was than to stay in his place, he crawled up to the cage and squeezed through between the iron bars. The bear grunted a little, but committed no violence. The little Savoyard boy offered to God a prayer which his departed mother had taught him, and committed himself to the keeping of his Heavenly Father. He asked for protection from the cold, and he was protected both from the cold and the wild beast.

The bear took the little stranger between her paws, and pressed him to her, so that he lay in her warm breast, and

against her thick skin so softly and comfortably, that he who had not slept for many nights with any comfort whatever, now forgot all fear, and soon fell into a sweet, deep sleep.

In the morning the little boy waked up with new strength, crept out from the cage, and went into the city to attend to his business, and seek his daily bread. In the evening he returned to his strange mother.

Beside her there lay a great many pieces of bread and meat which had been brought there from the table of the prince, but the bear had eaten all she wanted, and these were left over. So the little Savoyard helped himself to all that he could find. He then lay quietly down between the paws of his thick-clad mother, who pressed him to her as she had done the night before; and he slept there as if in the warmest feather bed.

In this way he spent five nights without anybody's knowing it. On the morning of the sixth night he overslept himself, so that when the hostlers went around with their lanterns in the early morning to attend to the many horses in the stable, they saw him lying between the paws of the great bear. The old bear grunted a little as if she was very much offended that anybody should see her taking care of her little favourite. The little Savoyard sprang up, and squeezed out through the cage to the great wonder of the bystanders.

This affair became known, and created great astonishment throughout the city. Although the little Savoyard was very much ashamed that anybody should know that he had slept in the arms of a bear, he was ordered to appear in the presence of the prince, to whom he told his recent experience. The prince appointed a day for him to come again. The little Savoyard came, and in the presence of the prince and princesses, and many people of rank, he was requested to enter the cage where the great bear was. She received him as kindly as ever, and pressed him to her breast.

The good duke now understood that the bear, or rather God working providentially through the bear, had been the means of saving the little orphan Savoyard from death. No person had taken care of him, nobody had shown any sympathy for him; and yet in the very coldest nights of that remarkable winter, this rough bear was the means of saving his life. It was the providence of God which preserved him.

This circumstance led the prince to look at the providence of God in a higher light than he had ever done before; and so should it lead us all to remember that God sometimes uses the most unexpected means as the instruments for the consummation of his wishes. The little Savoyard afterwards led an honourable and useful life, nor did he ever forget how God had spared him in his great need.

66

"WILL YOU READ IT ?"

UT me down," said a wounded soldier in the Crimea, to his comrades who were carrying him. "Put me down; do not take the trouble to carry me any further; I am dying."

They put him down, and returned to the field. A few minutes after, an officer saw the man weltering in his blood, and said to him, "Can I do anything for you?

"Shall I get you a little water ?" said the kind-hearted officer.

"No, thank you, I am dying."

"Is there nothing I can do for you? Shall I write to your friends ?"

"I have no friends that you can write to. one thing for which I would be much obliged. sack you will find a Testament,-will you open

But there is In my knapit at the 14th

chapter of John, and near the end of the chapter you will find a verse that begins with 'PEACE.' Will you read it ?"

The officer did so, and read the words, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

"Thank you sir," said the dying man, "I have that peace -I am going to that Saviour-God is with me--I want no more;" and instantly expired.

What a blessed thing is peace with God! The conscienc e is no longer burdened with its load of guilt, because the sou 1 believes that sin has been put away for ever, by the death of Christ. "As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions FROM US" (Ps. ciii. 12).

Dear reader! If you are trusting to your own works in any degree for salvation, you have not peace with God. Peace comes to us only through our Lord Jesus Christ (Rom. v. 1). If you are hoping to make yourself fit for God in any way but as a lost, guilty, sinner, trusting in the blood of Jesus, you are in fearful error (John xiv. 6). If you say you are too great a sinner to come to Christ, you dishonour Christ, and reject the testimony of God that the blood of Jesus Christ, His son, cleanseth from ALL sin (1 John i. 6).

TOUCHING INCIDENT.

EV. A. L. STONE, D.D., late pastor of Park Street Church, Boston, has arrived at his new home in San Francisco. One of the affecting incidents he relates, which transpired during his voyage, will perhaps interest and benefit some of your readers.

About noon of Wednesday, a lady came to me and asked me if I would go down into the second cabin and see a sick young