Here he met his wife, who implored him with tears and sobs, to give up Christianity; but despite her entreaties he remained unyielding.

For four years Eliezer continued in the army, when at the expiration of that time his discharge was obtained.

Freed from the galling military yoke, he joined the ranks of the Church militant, here, on earth, and entered on a course of preparation for missionary work to which he purposed to devote himself as the work of his life, and for which he possessed those natural and spiritual qualifications which do not render special training and instruction unnecessary, but without which all human education is vain. He became a missionary of the Free Church of Scotland, and was appointed to labour in Roumania, where he st:ll carries on his work.

G. H. S.

N.B. The materials for this sketch have been derived chiefly from a memoir of the subject by Charlotte Elizabeth Stern, with introduction by Rev. Prebendary Churton. London: S. W. Partridge, 1877. An autobiography was published last year by Eliezer, “The Modern Hebrew and the Hebrew Christian.' London: Nisbet.

On Solway Sands; or, the Wigtown Martyrs.

on the month of May, 1685, Margaret McLauchlan, 3 an aged widow, and Margaret Wilson, a girl of

eighteen, were fastened by Grierson of Lag and

other persecutors to stakes driven into the sands of the Solway, within tide-mark near the mouth of the Bladnock, and there left to drown amid the rising waters. The aged woman was the first to perish, she being fastened farthest out in the sea. As the tide rose and death drew near, the young girl sang a part of the 25th Psalm, and when tempted alike by loving friends and by her cruel persecutors, she replied as the ballad narrates, her last words being, “I am one of Christ's bairns ; let me go.”

• Upon which," writes Wodrow, “she was thrust down again into the water, where she finished her course with

n n Solway sands the tide flows fast,

The waters swiftly rise ;
Alas! for him when lingering there

The rushing waves surprise.
Full quickly must he hurry hence,

Full swiftly must he ride,
Who tempts his fate on Solway shorc,

And races with the tide.
Past Wigtown borough to the sea

The Bladnoch river goes;
With many a pool and shifting shoal

Across the sand it flows.
Ah! Bladnoch stream and Wigtown bay

Have sights of sorrow seen,
When ships were stranded on the shore,

And boats have shipwrecked been.
There many a time has woman wept,

And wrung in grief her hands,
When loved ones longed for have been found

Dead on the Solway sands.
But sight so strange was never seen

As when those martyrs died,
Who gave their life on Wigtown shore,

And perished in the tide.
Two hundred years ago 'tis now,
. 'Twas in the month of May,
The level sands were dry, the tide

Was out in Wigtown bay.
'Twas then the brother of fierce Graham

Of Claverhouse rode down,
With Windram, Strachan, and Coltron,

The provost of the town.
And cruel Grierson of Lag,

The persecutor, came
To do that day by Bladnoch's bank

A deed of sin and shame.

At ebb of tide, two stakes of wood

Were driv'n into the sand,
And fastened there two prisoners were

At Grierson's command.
An aged widow one of them,

And one a maiden young ;
And thus amid the rising waves

The virgin martyr sung:
" To thee I lift my soul, O Lord;

My God I trust in thee.
Let me not be ashamed, let not

My foes triumph o'er me.”
The aged widow was the first

Drowned by the rising tide. “What think you of her now?” in scorn

The persecutors cried.
- What think I of her? In that saint

Whose soul is on the wing,
I see but this,” the maid replied,

“My Saviour suffering.”
Still ever deeper flowed the tide,

The billows higher rose,
As there that young defenceless girl

Was tempted by her foes
To buy her life by breach of faith

To Him who was her Lord.
O she was young, and life is sweet,

And it was but a word.
Yet was temptation vain. She chose

For Christ to suffer wrong,
And still amid the rush of waves

The men could hear her song :
“Let not the errors of my youth,

Nor sins remembered be;
In mercy, for Thy goodness' sake,

O Lord remember me.”
By this the waves rose to her lips,

The voice that sung was still;
They raised her head, “ Pray for the King."

“God save him if He will,”

She answered. Then they dragged her forth,

Half drowned amid the tide.
“ Will you renounce the covenants ?

Abjure your faith," they cried.
She raised her eyes, nigh dimmed in death;

“Renounce my Saviour ! No.
I'm one of Jesus' little ones,

I pray you let me go."
They let her go, the waters closed

Above her youthful head;
One of the glorious martyr throng,

One of the deathless dead.
Her name shall never be forgot

While Bladnoch's waters run,
And Solway kindles into gold

Beneath the setting sun.
They speak it oft in Scotland's homes,

'Tis told in far off lands,
How in the bloom of youth she died

Upon the Solway sands.
And souls are thrilled, and hearts beat high,

To hear the story told,
How nobly she maintained her faith

In days that now are old.
And how she kept her trust in God,

And how she scorned the foe,
And how she lived, and how she died,

Two hundred years ago.

God's Remedy for Care. “ Be careful for nothing ; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanks giving let your requests be made known unto God."-Phil. iv. 6.

WHAT does the Apostle mean? Not certainly that

we are to be careless about everything, and take no pains or care about anything.

The word careful, as he uses it here, does not mean painstaking, but over-anxious ; it means, in fact, just

what is expressed when we separate it into its two elements, full of care. This text is an advice to care-burdened and anxious people, and it tells them what they are to do with their cares and troubles.

There are many such people in this world. Many with real cares, and not a few with cares that exist only in their own fancy. Some have few cares and small, others have great cares and many of them. In any case it is a great mistake to fret and worry over our cares, for, as everybody knows, fretfulness and anxiety will not lessen the cares or avert the troubles, but, on the contrary, will make us feel them all the more, and weaken our power of resistance. We all know this.

True wisdom consists in doing the best we can, and, having done so, letting our hearts rest in peace. But, alas ! how few practice this philosophy. Most people brood over their cares, and imagine all possible evils, until their minds become enfeebled and embittered, and after all this has been gone through, the care is not lessened in the least.

But what is a man to do? We find that the mind wanders back again and again to our cares, whether we will or not. Something can often be done by telling our trouble to a friend. A true friend can at least give us sympathy, which is to the care-burdened often a most helpful thing. Perhaps he can give more than sympathy. He may be able to cast a new light on what troubles us, a light that will dissipate the care. He may even be able to render us substantial help, and so bring our trouble to an end by removing the occasion of it.

This is the plan Paul advises us to adopt. He bids us carry our burdens of care to a friend, and that friend the truest, best, kindest, wisest, richest and mightiest of all. He bids us go with our cares to God. We are to tell Him what troubles us, and to put into His hand whatever perplexes us, that He may manage it for us. Pause and think what this really means, and what wondrous possibilities of help are here. God is able and willing to take up our