between them. Showing him a man in the street, I formed the word M, A, N, in the same way, and likewise H, A, T. I then shuffled all the letters together, and required of him to pick out what would represent the dog-the same with man and hat; and after a great many attempts I found him beginning to enter with some interest into the sport; for I took especial care, by the most playful looks and manner, to give it the appearance of amusement. Confining the lesson to these three words, I then showed him how to make the letters that composed them on the fingers; and sent him away with more learning in his head than ever it had carried before.

For a long while my pupil only learnt the proper names of objects with which he was daily conversant; but whenever I caught a sign for anything easy to spell, I made him use the letters. Thus, bad, good, large, small, light, dark, and other adjectives, were taught as occasion called them forth. Seeing once the word "and," he asked by an inquisitive shake of the head what it meant. I tied a piece of thread upon the pen, and passed it round the inkstand, telling him that the thread was "and." He was delighted, and ever after used the conjunction correctly. I mention this to prove how much may be done by watching opportunities of familiar illustration. Children do not first learn their native tongue grammatically, but by catching a word here and there, with its signification. In the same way, by a ready use of the finger alphabet, any person may enable a deaf and dumb child to acquire considerable knowledge of ordinary language, while the thirst for information, once awakened, is found insatiable in these most helpless, most interesting beings.

The case of John B--was a very peculiar one. He was lying under many disadvantages, and I was in continual expectation of removing from the place of his abode. I well knew that no one was likely to take up my ground if I left it, and this rendered me less. anxious for the mechanical, and more solicitous for the spiritual work which I had undertaken. I therefore made the most of all the signs that we could establish between us, in order to store his enquiring mind with what would be more valuable than even the greatest facility of communication with those around him; and God so blessed my efforts, that I am lost in adoring wonder when I look back, and review what the finger of Omnipotence wrought. The way was made plain and easy to me; and so will it be to every believer who sets about such a work in firm confidence that God willeth not the death of a soul, but commands the gospel to be preached to every creature. Indeed, we possess a great advantage in engaging in this branch of the blessed labour; for, with scarcely any exception, the deaf and dumb are most fervent in their attachment, where they find themselves compassionated and beloved.

John B- was necessarily an atheist as far as his understanding was concerned. He had, indeed, been taught to bow down before a crucifix, and to the pictures and images that adorned the altar of the Roman Catholic chapel; but this only puzzled him for, as he afterwards told me, he saw that they were made of wood and paper, and that he was better than they, because, though he could not hear or speak, he could both walk and see, whereas they could neither speak,

hear, see, nor walk. Of course, he paid no honour to them; nor had any idea entered his mind of the existence of a supreme Being. In proof of this, one of the first questions he contrived to put to me was whether I made the sun and moon.

It would be impossible to trace the steps by which I was enabled to convey to him the grand truth that there existed ONE, far above, out of his sight, more dazzling than the orb of day, who had made that orb, and all the objects on which he so delighted to gaze: the starry heavens, the rivers, the hills and vales, the green grass, and all that walked upon it, the birds and the butterflies, the gliding fish, and all that people the universe. It was when he first laid hold on this reality that his mind seemed to be truly born; it evidently filled the vacuum in his spirit, threw a sunshine over all his contemplations, and so richly was the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost that I have no hesitation in saying he valued every enjoyment, even down to the most ordinary comfort and convenience of life, more as the gift of his Creator than because of the gratification which he personally derived from it.

But still my dumb boy was only an amiable deist in his comprehension of the divine nature; and I was well aware that he might thus live and die, and perish everlastingly for lack of saving knowledge. He had hitherto no conviction of his own sinfulness; to the need, the offices, the name of a Saviour he was a stranger, and before he had acquired sufficient skill in language to express or to comprehend the shortest sentence, I was alarmed by seeing symptoms of severe illness, at a time when typhus fever was raging around us. I had already taken him to reside under our roof, for more constant opportunity of instruction; but writing occupied a large portion of my time; and, as I have said, my teaching was directed rather to his heart than his head, in the prospect of a speedy separation.

I now saw that not a day was to be lost in giving him the gospel, the message of reconciliation through the atoning blood of our crucified Redeemer.

The way to this memorable conversation was opened whilst I was secretly praying that the Lord would point it out, by expressing some curiosity as to what became of people whom he had seen carried past to their burial. He signified that their eyes were shut very close, would they ever open them again?

Upon this I threw down my needlework; and bespeaking, by a sign, his most serious attention, I sketched, upon a paper, a crowd of persons of all ages, and near them a large pit, with flames issuing from it. I told him that the crowd contained him, me, everybody; that all were bad; that God was angry; and all must be cast into that fiery gulf. He exhibited great dismay, and anxiously looked for further explanation. I then drew a single figure, who came, I told him, from heaven; being God's Son, that he asked his Father not to throw those people into the fire, and consented to be nailed to a cross to die; and that when his head dropped in death, the pit was shut up, and the people saved. It may well be supposed that I greatly doubted the possibility that such a representation, explained only by signs, should convey any clear idea to the boy's mind; but it is God's will, by the foolishness of

preaching, to save them that believe; and I had immediate token of his assisting power; for John, after a pause of wonder, started an objection most delightful to me, inasmuch as it proved that he had laid hold on the grand doctrine of substitution. He observed that the sufferer on the cross was but one; that the ransomed crowd were many, very many; and he signified his doubt of God being satisfied with the exchange. The Lord still helped me; I took off my ring, laying it by myself on the table, and then breaking, into many pieces, the leaves and stalks of some decayed flowers in a jar, I heaped them near it, asking, with a smile, which he would have, the one piece of gold or the many withered fragments? Never shall I forget his look, the beautiful, the brilliant look of sudden apprehension, the laugh of delight, the repeated clapping of his hands, while he declared, by animated signs that the single piece of gold was better than a room full of old flowers; that the former was like him on the cross; the latter like men, women, and children; and he spelled, most exultingly, "One! One!' Then, with his countenance softening into the loveliest expression of grateful reverence, he looked up, saying, "Good, good ONE;" and ran for the letters to learn to spell his name. That adorable name which is above every name that name of Jesus at which every knee shall bow-I taught him to spell, and then I told him how Jesus Christ was laid in the grave; how, on the third morning, he burst its bars; how he rose to the Father, and would also raise him and me from the dead; and finally, I assured him that Jesus Christ could see and hear us always; that we might talk to him constantly, and hereafter be with him in heaven.

I should have remarked that, when showing John the pit of flames, I paused to convince him that he, for one, had made God angry; he freely confessed it, by sorrowful looks and gestures, but most vehemently denied that God could be angry with me. Thus he was clearly brought acquainted with the plague of his own heart; and not the slightest objection did he make to the justice of a dreadful sentence against him. This struck me the more, because he was exceedingly jealous of his own rights and reputation, never resting for a moment under any supposed invasion of either; yet he had nothing to reply against God; he tacitly acknowledged his guiltiness, and it was a most glorious proof of Divine teaching, the love of God, even in delivering his own Son to a cruel death. I saw with unutterable and overflowing joy, that my poor boy received Jesus Christ as his Saviour; and never, from that happy hour to the moment of his death, did he seem to doubt his interest in the atonement. So beautifully did he realize the apostle's declaration, "Ye are bought with a price," that without ever knowing those words, he took them for the rule of his life, and found the principles conveyed in them a safeguard against sin in every form; that is to say, sin had not the dominion over him, he hated sin, he dreaded it, he fought against it, often with tears and prayers, and that in matters which would be deemed by many of very slight importance.

I will give one illustration before I quit this part of the subject, merely remarking that the same holy and heavenly wisdom guided him under every temptation. He had a great abhorrence of drunkenness ; and to avoid the beginnings of such a sin he resolved, with my hearty concurrence, never to taste strong drink of any kind.

On one occasion, about four years after he came to me, he was sent with a note to a friend's house, and while waiting for the answer, he was pressed to take a glass of wine by a young gentleman, who had resolved to overcome his scruples; the lad refused, but was more importunately urged to take it. His rejection became more firm and emphatic as his thoughtless friend more resolutely persevered; until the latter seized him by the collar, drew his head back, and poured the wine into his lips. In this emergency John set his teeth so firmly that scarcely a drop could pass them, and the contents of the glass ran down over a pretty waistcoat which I had just made for him, and which he highly valued. He said nothing, but buttoned his coat, and returned with the letter; then he told me what had passed, showed the stains, and with an exulting smile, concluded by remarking that his waistcoat was spoilt, but God was not angry, for John was not drunk. When adverting to it afterwards, he said that God had made his teeth, and the devil could not get the wine through them.

I have already said that it is not now my purpose to write John's history, and I shall pass over the seven years during which he walked with God on earth blameless, and without rebuke; a silent, lovely light, shining among men, so as to compel many to glorify his heavenly Father. Throughout the protracted sufferings of a most lingering decline, the arm of Jehovah sustained him, strengthening him with strength in his soul, and bowing his will into the most filial, most cheerful resignation. Jesus Christ was the theme of his discourse daily and hourly, in the season of health; and afterwards, when writhing under severe tortures, the sight of which drew tears from me, he would look up in my face with a sweet smile, and tell me that Jesus Christ loved him. Of the effects of this love he had an extraordinary view, which he described to me very soon after he had been brought acquainted with his Saviour; and he repeated it with excessive delight, even at the time when death had actually seized his prey, and below the knees neither warmth nor pulsation remained. It was this: that God had a very large book, on the top of one passage bearing the name of John B- below which were written a great many things wherein John had made the Lord exceedingly angry; that on rising from the grave, God would call him, in awful manner, to stand before him, while he opened this book, and turned to the page in question; but that though he would hold it close to the sun, yet he could not read one word that had been written, because-and here his face used to kindle and glow with indescribable animation-because when John prayed to Jesus Christ, he took that book, and, passing his "red hand" over the page, left nothing visible there but the blood which had flowed from his palm, when pierced by the nails in Calvary. This thought was his solace through life and evidently illuminated the dark valley of the shadow of death. The possibility of escaping hell otherwise than by the intervention of "Jesus Christ's red hand" would have appeared to him a mockery; and to doubt of Christ's redeeming love to his own soul, I think he would have considered a very deep crime. All have not the full assurance of faith; and I never saw or heard of any instance where it existed so triumphantly as in John B- ; while to the praise of the glory of Divine grace be it repeated, that he who clung as a

helpless, condemned sinner, to the unmerited love of a ransoming Saviour, was a wonder to all who knew him, for the unblemished purity of his life and conversation.

The departure of John B- from this mortal scene, was as sweetly and calmly bright as was the faith which he held. Enoch's brief memorial would suit him well-he "walked with God, and he was not, for God took him."-From "The Happy Mute," by Charlotte Elizabeth.

Hard Books.

N Irish speaker observed, "Many books published in the present day remind me of a short passage in one of Dickens's stories, where he represents Mark Tapley as saying that he would like to squeeze Mr. Pecksniff behind the door, because he was the sort of man that would squeeze soft. So with books-some are very beautifully bound in green and gold-very bright to look at, but they will squeeze soft. A man wants some books which will not squeeze soft. He wants some hard books-some books from contact with which his mind may acquire strength and consistency." This is our reason for preferring the Puritan divines to those of modern date. When you read them, you have found something solid, substantial, and real. Most of the theological books of these degenerate times are like the whipped creams and soufflés of the confectioner, very pretty, but very much like nothing at all. In a cubic inch of Charnock, or Owen, there is enough matter to cover acres of the new school of writing. Many of our new divines, when they write their lucubrations, evidently think they are thinking, but nobody else thinks so when they see what comes of it. "Much-ado about nothing" has got out of the theatres, and come to the studies, the pulpits, and the book-shops. Now do we see how wide a surface can be covered by an infinitesimal grain of metal, and how small a mouse may be produced by the most mountainous travail.C. H. S.

Carry a Light.

N France, every carriage, or cart, or waggon must, after sundown, carry a light; and quite right too. On our mountain-roads, where should we be if our carriage encountered a hay-cart just at the turn of a road, or at the edge of a precipice? It is very curious to see a little lantern gleaming out from a moving hill of hay, but it is in every way the correct thing. How we wish that all our acquaintances carried a light! Be they good or bad, we are glad to know where they are, and where they are going, for then we know how to deal with them. Your dark men are dreadful men. They seem to be afraid of discovering their own whereabouts, and we know not whether they are friends or foes. We are bound to drive warily when these people are about; and we should in their neighbourhood be doubly careful to keep our own lamp burning brightly.-C. H. S.