home, and work, by the fire. I hope mamma will give us nice short tasks, that we may play with our New Year's gifts. Ah! that reminds me of my text. Then she said aloud, "If you please, mamma, will you tell me what my verse, this morning, meant?" "You know what a gift is, Ellie," said her

mamma.

"Oh, yes, of course, mamma! my new doll, and my puzzle, were gifts. I had a great number of gifts this New Year's-Day. A gift is a present, something given to you."

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Quite right, Ellie. Now tell me what God has given you."

"You said the other day, mamma, that God gave us all we have."

"Yes, dear, God does give you all you have. He gives you health, and friends, and reason, and a home; and beside these, he gives you opportunities of serving him. The word minister, in your text, means, to serve. Now try if you can make out your text altogether."

Ellie thought some time, and then said, "I think it must be, that we must use what God has given us, to serve him: but I do not see how I can do that, mamma. If I had money, I could serve God by buying Bibles, and clothes, and food, to give away; but I cannot till I am a woman, because I have not money enough."

"But if you should not live to be a woman, Ellie,

what then?"

Ellie paused; then said, "Perhaps there is some

way to serve God now.

Mamma, will you tell me

how ?"

(To be concluded next month.)

M. M. L.

"You never can Rub it out.”

ONE pleasant afternoon, a lady was sitting with her little son, a white-haired boy, five years of age. The mother was sick, and the child had left his play to stay with her, and was amusing himself in printing his name with a pencil on paper.

Suddenly his busy fingers stopped. He had made a mistake, and wetting his finger, he tried again and again to rub out the mark, as he had been accustomed to do on his slate.

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My son," said his mother, "do you know that God writes down all you do in a book? He writes every naughty word, every disobedient act, every time you indulge in temper and shake your shoulders, or pout your lips; and, my boy, you never can rub it out!"

The little boy's face grew very red, and in a moment tears ran down his cheeks. His mother's eye was on him earnestly, but she said nothing more. At length he came softly to her side, threw his arms around her neck, and whispered, "Can Jesus' blood rub it out?"

Dear children, Christ's blood can rub out this dreadful account; but not without you pray to him to have it done. Go to him, then, and feel that he is near you, like your father and mother, only more able to help you than they can be. Try to be good, and obey him, and he will help you, if you ask him.

Small Things.

From little seeds sweet flowers spring,
And perfume o'er our pathway fling,
The noble oaks derive their birth
From acorns buried in the earth;
And the bright corn on waving plains
Rose from the tiny, scattered grains.

And infant hands may plant the seed,
And from that small and simple deed
Rich produce shall adorn the ground,
And gladden every heart around;
For God will send the sun and shower
To cherish and refresh the flower.

How small the seed of truth appears!
Oft sown with trembling and with tears;
And yet that precious germ imparts
Fragrance and life to desert hearts;
Nor shall its progress stay until
Its branches the wide world shall fill.

And a child's soft and earnest prayer
Rich blessing may to others bear;
And a child's penny, rightly given,
May aid in guiding souls to heaven;
And lisping accents may proclaim
The sweetness of a Saviour's name.

Dear children, God is kind indeed,
To let you help to plant his seed!
O cast it with a liberal hand
On every dark and heathen land,
And he who dwells enthroned above
Will smile upon your work of love.

ANON.

The Reformation in France.

CHAPTER II.-LEFEVRE AND THE SCRIPTURES.

OT till nearly three hundred years had passed away did the light of the Gospel shine again in France. The "poor men of Lyons" and the Albigenses were forgotten then; and the "Men of

the Valleys" of the Alps would

have been forgotten too, if there had not been a war carried on against them a little before, in which the king of France had taken part. Nothing was remembered of what John Huss and his companion, Jerome of Prague, had believed and had died for at Constance. Luther had not spoken one of the

D

words by which he afterwards filled the Pope and the priests with fear and hatred, and gave peace and strength to the hearts of those who loved God. Neither had Ulrich Zwingle taught the way of salvation by Jesus Christ. A man famous throughout France for his learning, Lefevre by name, a teacher of what is called theology (which means, such religious knowledge as ministers, and preachers, and priests are expected to have,) at Paris, in the year 1510, or earlier, began to read the New Testament for himself, and to use it instead of the books out of which he had before instructed the young men who came to learn of him: and it was in this manner, directly from the word of God, that the Reformation in France came.

But I must tell you, that although the Roman-catholic religion was just as false, and wicked, and cruel in that country as it is everywhere that it dare show itself as it is, the Pope and the priests had not so much power in France as they had in Spain and Italy; it seemed, therefore, at first, as if "the word of the Lord would have free course and be glorified." The priests themselves would not always obey the Pope, and the kings would not let him make any one he pleased a bishop, or the minister of a parish. And so both the bishops and the priests looked to the king for all their riches and honours. They opposed the Pope, however, not because they had any care for real religion, but lest he should have all the power; and they desired to have some themselves.

Many of the noblemen afterwards did very much