and possibly a doctor could not be got till next morning, and he foresaw what a rough jolting in a cart was before him, and what further mischief might be done to the leg. So he got the top of an old box, and split it into pieces of the entire length and width of the leg; then bidding Harry grasp the knee firmly with both hands and hold on tight, with his own right hand clasping the ankle, he pulled it gently, and got it somewhat straight; while with his left hand under the leg, and the thumb on the edge of the pointed bone, he forced it back to its natural position. He had reduced the fracture. Keeping it firmly in its place with his own hands, he made John put one splint on each side from knee to sole, putting a little hay first to pad them, and these he bound together firmly, but not too tightly, in three places with handkerchiefs: one just below the knee, one above the ankle, and one in the middle.

66

Well, now he is boxed up trim and safe for his journey. Yes, now lads one on each side of him, one arm of each under the shoulders, another under the hips, hands closed together, his arms round your necks." Thus carefully and safely he was lifted into the cart, upon a good quantity of straw. The surgeon taking charge of the leg, and seeing particularly that the toe did'nt hitch in his own great coat or the edge of the cart; for that would have sadly disarranged his handy work, and shot a terrible pang through the poor fellow.

He turned him a little on his wounded side, with the knee half bent, pushing in some hay under it for a pillow.

John whispered to Harry "what made. the doctor look from the sole of the foot so knowingly along the toe, the chin and the knee, just lightly touching these three points with the finger." It was (as a carpenter looks along his work to see it is straight) to be sure they were in one continuous straight line. The fracture was now properly set and safe. He threw a covering over him, and giving John a trifle, bid him drive him home at a walking pace and stop half way to give him a crust and half a pint, and no more. And he advised the man to remain on a bed down stairs till his doctor came.

Now my readers may perchance, through this present winter, be called upon to assist at some such an accident as I have here related; not that people's bones are

more brittle, and therefore more readily broken in frost, or cold, but because of the slipperiness of the paving, or road. They may have to imitate a little of the surgeon's art and skill, at some unlucky fall from a horse while hunting; or at a tumble on the slippery pavement, and their friend have miles to reach home. Now I do not mean to insist rigidly on their leaving a man lying long in a street gutter! All I wish to enforce is, that whatever assistance they render, should be with an object in view, with a principle of action, not an indiscriminate, and useless effort. 1. Give a few moments for a person to recover his senses. 2. Ascertain in what part, he is really injured. 3. Use your wits in applying a temporary remedy, till further advice can be procured. If a person breaks a leg in a town, you may simply tie the two legs together, (the sound one making a good natural support, or splint) and place him carefully on a stretcher, (by far, the best civil ambulance) and send him home; as of course medical aid is quickly procured. In the country, a hurdle is a good conveyance, and you may smile, when I say that "faute de mieux" I have done up a broken leg very fairly, by placing down the length of the leg good stiff straw, kept parallel together: that is, casing it in lengths of straw, just as a fishmonger packs up a fine salmon.

Do you smile at my warnings? Since commencing these papers I have seen a poor girl just escape the amputation of her limb from rough handling. It is thèse incidents before my own eyes, that force me to speak out.

Yes. And shall we not turn these things as of GOD unto mercy? we call them accidents, i.e. things that happen; but nothing happens, save of GOD. May not the broken limb be sent from Him, to beget a "broken spirit". A time of suffering is sometimes good for a soul that can get no other time to think, or to meditate, or even to pray; together with the surgeon then, send for the physician of the soul; while one binds up the broken limb, let the other bind up the broken spirit. How many souls want breaking; how many souls will never be set straight unless they are broken. This is God's mercy, take it as such, and be thankful, and return, O ye that thus suffer, to the labours and duties of life, with the simple thought, that GOD has been with you.

THE HARDENED HEART.

The son of Achmed came to his father, and said, "Behold, my father, the clods of earth are frozen, and the cold snow lieth deep upon the furrows, and I cannot move them." And his father said, "Bring thy spade and mattock, and see what thou canst do." And he did so, but the clods would not move, nor did the earth give

way

before his strength. And his father said, "Bring thy pick-axe, and bring thy iron bars, and smite the earth, and subdue it." And he did so, but wheresoever he smote, the clods of earth turned into dry dust, and crumbled, and with the wind, were blown away, but were not softened. And he said, "Bring pails of water and pour over the earth and melt it ;" and he did so; but behold, the water ran along the surface, and became itself the ice, which congealing, only made it the harder.

And the son of Achmed said, "Alas! I cannot subdue it." Then Achmed said, "My son, go to thy rest and sleep; and let thy labours cease until to-morrow." And he did so.

Then on the morrow he came forth, and behold, there was a gentle rain, that watered the earth in the little valleys thereof, and the Sun shone forth amidst the rain, and warmth was felt all around, while the clouds dropped fatness. Then the son of Achmed said, "My father, it is softened now, without my labour."

It

Yes, my son, said the wise Achmed, is the heart of man; Lo! the frost of sin hardens it, and the crust of its hardness, is as adamant, and all man's skill, and all man's strength cannot move it. Then cometh, while man sleepeth, the Sun of Righteousness, and shineth upon it, and the waters of mercy dropping down from Heaven, soften it; for such, is the Grace of the Spirit of GOD."

And the son of Achmed went his way, and marvelled.

The longer I live, the more I feel the importance of adhering to the rule which I have laid down for myself in relation to such matters:-1. To hear as little as possible whatever is to the prejudice of others. 2. To believe nothing of the kind till I am absolutely forced to it. 3. Never to drink into the spirit of one who circulates an evil report. 4. Always to moderate, as far as I can, the unkindness which is expressed towards others. 5. Always to believe that if the other side were heard, a very different account would be given of the matter.-CARUS' LIFE OF SIMEON.

Ye have oftentimes been present at the burning of large houses. Ye have seen and if no one comes near to stop the how the smoke keeps rising up to heaven, mischief, but every one keeps looking to himself, the flame spreads freely on, and devours everything. And oftentimes the stand round indeed as spectators of the whole city will stand round; they will evil, not to aid nor assist, and there you and doing nothing, each individual perhaps, may see them one and all standing round stretching out his hand, and pointing out to some one who may be just come to the spot, either a flaming brand that moment flying through a window, or beams and rafters hurled down, or the whole circuit of the walls forced out, and tumbling violently to the ground. Many too there are of the more daring and venturesome, who will have the hardy hood even to come close to the very buildings themselves whilst they are burning, not in order so much as to stretch forth a hand towards them, and to put a stop to the take a closer survey of all those things mischief, but only that they may be able to which usually escape the notice of those at a distance, and so may more fully enjoy the sight. Then if the house should happen to be large and magnificent, they will look upon it as a pitiable spectacle, and deserving many tears, and truly there is a pitiable spectacle for us to behold; capitals of columns crumbled to dust, and many columns themselves shattered to pieces, down often by the very hands which some consumed by the fire, others thrown erected them, that they may not add fuel to the flame. Statues again, which stood with so much gracefulness, with the ceiling resting on them, these you may see all exposed, with the roof torn off, and themselves standing hideously disfigured in the open air. And why should one go on to describe the wealth stored up within; the tissues of gold and the vessels of silver: yea, and the chamber too into which none entered but the lord and his consort, where was the treasure-house of tissues and perfumes, and the caskets of costly jewels, all turned into one blazing pile, and within it now bathing men, and beggars, aud runaway slaves, and all who choose, and

everything within one mass of fire and water, of mud and dust, and half-burnt beams!-Now why have I drawn out so full a picture of this? Not simply because I wish to represent to you the conflagration of a house (for what concern is that of mine?) but because I wish to set before you as vividly as I can, the calamities of the Church; for like a conflagration, a conflagration in very deed, or like a thunderbolt hurled from on high, have they lighted upon the roof of the Church. And yet, they rouse no one; but, whilst our Father's house is burning, we are slumbering on in a deep and stupid sleep. And yet who is there whom this fire does not touch ? Which of the statues that stand in the Church? for the Church is nothing else than a house built of the souls of us men. Now this house is not of equal honour throughout, but of the stones which combine to form it, some are bright and shining, whilst others are smaller and more dark than they, and yet, superior again to others. There we may see many who are in the place of gold also, the gold which adorns the ceiling; others again we may see who give the beauty and gracefulness produced by statues. Many we may see standing like pillars, (for he has called men also "pillars,") giving great gracefulness, not by their support only, but by their beauty also, and having their heads overlaid with gold. We may see a multitude forming generally the wide middle space and the whole extent of the circumference, for the body at large occupies the place of those stones of which the outer walls were built. Or rather we must go on to a more splendid picture yet. This Church of which I speak, is not built of those stones such as we see around us, but of gold and silver, and of precious stones, and there is abundance of gold dispersed every where throughout it. But, oh the bitter tears this calls forth! for all these things hath the lawless rule of vain glory consumed; that all-devouring flame, which no one has yet got under. And we stand gazing in amazement at the flames, but no longer able to quench the evil; or if we do quench it for a short time, yet after two or three days like a spark blown up from a heap of ashes, it will overturn all, and consume all which it had not consumed before. Such, I say, is the case here, and this is just what is wont to happen in

For

Thus

such a conflagration, and the cause is this. The foundations of the very pillars of the Church have been lost to us; those, who supported the roof, and who formerly held the whole building together, have been enveloped in the flame. Hence, too, was a ready communication to the rest of the outer walls for so also in the case of buildings, when the fire lays hold on the timbers, it is better armed for its attack upon the stones, but when it has brought down the pillars, and levelled them with the ground, nothing more is wanted to consume all the rest in the flames. when the props, and supports of the upper parts fall down, those parts also themselves will speedily enough follow them. is it also, at this moment with the Church; the fire has laid hold on every part. We seek the honours that come from man, we burn for glory, and we hearken not to Job, when he saith, "Even though I sinned unwittingly, did I fear a great multitude?" Behold ye, a virtuous spirit; "I was not ashamed," he saith, "to own, before the whole multitude, my involuntary sins;" and if he was not ashamed to confess, much more were it our duty to do so. For, saith the prophet, "Declare thou first thy transgressions, that thou mayest be justified." Great is the violence of this evil, everything is overturned by it, and annihilated. We have forsaken the LORD, and are become slaves of honour; we are no longer able to rebuke those who are under our rule and guidance, because we ourselves, also, are possessed with the same fever as they. We, who are appointed by God to heal others, need the physician ourselves; what further hope of recovery is there left, when even the very physicians themselves, need the healing hand of others? I have not said these things without an object, nor am I making lamentations to no purpose, but with the view, that one and all, with our women and children, sprinkled with ashes, and girded about with sackcloth, we may keep a long fast, may beseech GOD Himself to stretch forth His hand to us, and stay the peril; for need, is there indeed of His hand, that mighty, that marvellous hand. Greater things are required of us than of the Ninevites. "Yet three days," said the prophet," and Nineveh shall be overthrown." A fearful message, and burthened with tremendous threat, and how should it be otherwise;

to expect, that within three days, the city should become their tomb, and that all should perish in one common judgment. For if, when it happens that two children die at the same time in one house, the hardship becomes intolerable, and if Job regarded this, of all things the most intolerable. that the roof fell in upon all his children, and they were thus killed; what must it be to behold not one house, nor two children, but a nation of a hundred and twenty thousand, buried beneath its ruins. Ye know how terrible a disaster is

this, for lately has this very warning happened to us, not that any prophet uttered a voice, (for we are not worthy to hear such a voice,) but the warning, cried aloud from on high, more distinctly than any trumpet. However, as I was saying, "There are yet three days" said the prophet, "and Nineveh shall be overthrown." A terrible warning indeed, but now we have nothing even like that; no, there are no longer "three days," nor is there a Nineveh to be overthrown, but many days are already past, since the Church throughout all the world has been overthrown, and levelled with the ground, and all alike, are overwhelmed in the evil; nay, more, and they that are in high places are involved in the same guilt as the rest: and hence is the calamity worse in proportion as the distress is heavier upon them. Wonder not, therefore, why 1 should exhort you to do greater things than the Ninevites, nay more, nor do I now proclaim a fast only, but I suggest to you the remedy, which raised up that city also when falling. And what was that?"The LORD saw, saith the prophet, "that they turned every one from his evil way, and he repented of the evil that He said that He would do unto them." This let us do, both we and you, let us renounce the passion for riches, the lust for glory, beseeching God to stretch forth His hand, and to raise up our fallen limbs. And well may we, for our fear is not for the same objects as theirs, for then indeed it was only stones and timbers that were to fall, and bodies that were to perish; but now it is none of these, no, but souls are about to be delivered over to hell fire. Let us implore, let us confess unto Him, let us give thanks unto Him for what is past, let us intreat Him for what is to come, that we may be counted worthy to be delivered from this fierce and most terrible monster, and to lift up our thanks.

givings to the kind and loving GoD and FATHER, to Whom, with the SON, together with the HOLY GHOST, be glory, might, and honour, now, hencforth, and for ever and ever. Amen.*

CHRISTMAS TEACHINGS.

(Continued from Vol. III., page 384.)

There are some very wise people in the world who think the fuss we make about our old Christmas fashions very silly if not wrong. They think it all very well to be glad at Christmas, and that we ought to go to church and so on, but as to decking our houses and churches, and singing carols, and having particular dishes for dinner; to mix all that up in our religion seems to them sheer nonsense. Well, perhaps, they can do without all these little trifles; but then there are so few wise people in the world, that they really must let the silly ones, if they are silly, go their own way, and keep up the old Christmas customs, and feel happier and better, more grateful to GOD, and more loving to their neighbours than they could without. What does it matter whether it is a Christmas pudding, or a mince pie; a sprig of holly, or a scrap of old doggrel verse; if it brings back the gratitude of past years and adds the joy of those to the joy of this; if it deepens the voice of thanksgiving, or swells the tear that gathers in the eye of the returning prodigal; we will treasure it, as we treasure the trifles that have belonged to a dead friend, and we will turn our household uses, the lowest and the meanest, into acts of worship and into hymns of praise.

The tea once set, Letty's tongue was off again " Now grandfather, there's your tea, and now I'll tell you all about it. Well, of course, I was singing as I came along, we'd been learning a new hymn at school, from a new lady who never came there before; I shall call her my lady now, you'll soon know why, and I was singing this carol, and some one touched me and said, My little Letty, are you singing still ?' And I looked up, and it was the new lady, so I made a curtsey and said, 'Yes ma'am, I want to remember it, to sing it to grandfather, and I don't quite know the last verse,' and she said, Walk quickly

* S. Chrysostom. Hom. on Ephesians x.

at

by me, and I will teach it you again.' So I did, and she said it over, and I said it over, and then she asked me, 'Are you peace with every one to-night, Letty ?' And I felt shy, and said, 'I didn't know so she asked me, 'Oh! grandfather, 1 was so ashamed' Who was that girl stood by you in the class ?' And I told her it was Jenny. 'Are you and Jenny at peace with each other? she asked very softly. Wasn't it funny, grandfather, she should have seen we were cross"?

Grandfather nodded his head, and went on with his tea.

"Well, I hung down my head, and felt so foolish, but I said, if you please ma'am its her fault, she began it.' That's very happy for you,' said the lady, 'because you have only to forgive her, and there will be peace at once; there's no happy Christmas without peace, Letty. Does not your carol say so ?' And it does, grandfather, that last line you know." And she sang again:

The heart that is at peace with God,
Is glad at Christmas time."

Well, its very true, for coming home, I ran in to see Jenny and ask her to be friends, because of having an happy Christmas, and hearing the angels' song, and I didn't feel like the same afterwards, and I do love Jenny so, and I can't even remember what we quarrelled about; isn't that funny grandfather?"

"Well, well,' said Robert, what else ?" "Why, we came to the lady's house, with a garden in front, and she asked, would I like some holly? So I went in, and she gave me all that holly and ivy, and told me such pretty stories about it, and they all had something to do with Christmas. It seemed as if the lady didn't think about anything but that, and she told me to ask my mother to put it about the house and make it gay for to-morrow. And I said I lived with you, grandfather, and that you were angry with mother, and would not let her come to see us. And she had taken me into her house when she said that, and there was a bright lamp, and I saw tears come into her eyes, and she laid her hand on my head for a moment, and said, 'poor child,' as if it grieved her so; why should she be so sorry for me, grandfather ?"

"Give me my pipe again," said grandfather.

"Why you haven't finished your tea."

"No child, no, I can't drink it." Letty went close up to him, and climbed on to his knee. "You're not ill grand

father?" she asked.

"No Letty, no, what more about the lady, child, is it a long story ?"

"Are you tired of it, shall I tell you to-morrow?"

"No, go on."

There was not much to tell, only of a little child made in beautiful white stone, lying as if it were asleep, such a lovely little child as Letty had never seen, and when she asked who it was, the lady told her that it was her little child, but GoD had taken it away from her.

"I cried a little, grandfather, I feel as if I could cry now. I never thought before how sad mothers must feel when they lose their children. But the lady didn't cry; she had a pale look, perhaps it was her black dress, but she didn't seem very sad, and the house was so bright and gay with garlands every where, round the pictures, and round the lamps, Oh! I wish you could see it. Well, she told me all about it, how she came from a long way off, and left her husband fighting over the sea ever so far, and brought her baby because it was ill, to try and save it, and it was no use, and at last it died, and it was the only little baby she had, and now she was quite alone there, in that large house all by herself. I wondered more then, grandfather, to see her so bright looking, and I think she saw it, for she said, 'when you are older, my little_girl,' (so if she calls me her little girl, I may call her my lady, that is, only fair,) when you are older,' she said, 'you will know that there is a joy at Christmas time that raises us up above all sorrow. I am comforted for my little child, because of that Holy Child Who was born to-night. I am not lonely in my empty house, as I have been, for I think of the watchful shepherds, and seem to hear the song the Angels sung that Christmas Eve so long ago.' So I said, 'thank you ma'am,' for I seemed to know a little what she meant, and I told her I would go and make it up with Jenny, and it had been part my fault I was afraid, and I'll try to hear the Angels' song, ma'am,' I said, and I ran home through the cold, ever so fast, grandfather, and all the way I thought of another verse, a little old hymn that I learnt when I was quite a child; I'll say it to you :