"It is hardly likely you should understand," she said, coldly, "how the matter lies between us. I am very tired. I think I must go to bed." She rose, and began to gather the papers together which lay scattered over her writing-table. Denston looked down thoughtfully, being occupied in an internal debate. Should he try, or not, a last expedient? Would it not obviously be more prudent to follow the instinct which had guided him hitherto, and continue to keep to himself a discovery which he alone had made? On the other hand, if the disclosure of it were likely to produce so desirable a result, were it not cowardly to refrain? Meanwhile, his sister was leaving him-the subject would never be reopened between them. He was very far from rash by nature, but the most self-contained are apt occasionally to take action which outdoes in rashness the most impulsive of their brethren. Philip lifted up his head as his sister was on her way to the door, and said

"Stay a moment. I have not told you something which came to my knowledge this afternoon. Who do you think these people are?"

Miss Denston turned round.

"What do you mean?"

A pause, in which Miss Denston stood astonished and speechless.

"I wished to warn you against your intimacy with her," continued Philip, "without paining you by this disclosure, but as you have not-"

"But," interrupted his sister, coming forward, slowly, "it is not possible-how did you learn it— are you certain of it?"

"I learned it by accident, exactly how there is no need to tell you. I am quite certain of it."

"Does Hester know?"

"No, certainly not; and I expect you to keep the knowledge secret, as I intend to do."

Miss Denston did not reply. She was absorbed in thought. Philip looked at her, but could not discern in her face traces of what he had desired to see an instinctive revulsion from the daughter of the man whose memory she had so long execrated. What her feelings were he was left to conjecture, for, suddenly rousing herself, she said, "Good night," and left him.

Denston, left alone, began to pace up and down the room, but his thoughts soon reverted from Hester and his adventurings on her behalf to his own affairs, his own troubles and perplexities. They did not lighten as he brooded over them, and he went to bed at last with a heavy heart.

(To be continued.)

OME of the most beneficial and momentous consequences have resulted from the meeting of individuals either casual or pre-arranged. Such interviews have been like the small cleft in the rock, from which trickle the first drops of that mighty river which bears the ships of all nations to the ocean. Springs have been touched at such times, that have set in motion world-wide activities of usefulness. Seed has been sown that has borne fruits in distant harvests and through successive generations. A small selection may be useful. We shall be taught to admire God's method of working, and moved to use all available opportunities for doing good.

Two interviews are on record in the New Testament that were followed by great and

blessed results; that between Philip the Evangelist and the Ethiopian eunuch, which led to the early planting of Christianity in Africa; and that between Paul the Apostle and Lydia the purple-seller of Thyatira, which issued in the introduction of the Gospel into Europe. We shall confine our instances to comparatively modern times.

Böhler

To begin, there is the meeting, on February 7th, 1738, of Peter Böhler the Moravian with John Wesley. Wesley says the day was "much to be remembered." The theme of their conversation was the way of a sinner's salvation through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Wesley was trusting in his own righteousness. said, "My brother! that philosophy of yours must be purged away." This first interview led to others. The young seeker after truth lost no opportunity of conversing with the more deeplytaught disciple, who convinced him "of unbelief, of the want of that faith whereby alone we can be saved." Thus it came to pass that Wesley found the liberty of the Gospel for himself, and was able to preach that liberty to others.

Who shall estimate the ulterior results of Böhler's influence upon Wesley in the conversion of sinners throughout the world?

At Holwood, five miles south of Bromley, stands a venerable oak, conspicuous for its gnarled and projecting root, on which two men sat one day, earnestly conversing about one of the most iniquitous systems that have ever cursed the human race. It was there and then that William Wilberforce, urged by William Pitt, determined to lead the movement for the abolition of the slave trade. In his diary he says, "I well remember, after a conversation with Mr. Pitt in the open air, at the root of an old tree at Holwood, just above the steep descent into the vale of Keston, I resolved to give notice on a fitting occasion, in the House of Commons, of my intention to bring forward the abolition of the slave-trade." The tree is still known by the name of "Wilberforce's Oak." To this interview it is owing that on May 12th, 1789, Wilberforce brought the question before the House of Commons, "in a manner," to use the words of Burke, "the most masterly, impressive, and eloquent;" and so headed an enterprise which issued in the complete destruction of slavery in all parts of the British dominions.

One day, as the wife of Oberlin, the pastor of Ban de la Roche, was distributing food and medicine and clothing among the poor of her husband's extensive parish, a bare-footed little girl begged to accompany her, and help carry her bundles. That first meeting was the precursor of many others, in which Louisa Schepler accompanied "Mamma" Oberlin on her errands of love. At the age of fifteen this peasant girl entered the pastor's family as a servant. Her mistress taught her not only house-work, but how to knit and sew and read and write. What she learnt herself she soon began to teach others. She gathered the children of the village round her, in the summer on the grass in the open air, and during the winter in a barn, and taught them according to their capacity. The success of her school encouraged the pastor to extend the system, and soon every village in the parish had its infant-school. The movement spread on either hand into Germany and France, and even to England. Baron Cuvier justly claims for this poor peasant girl of Bellefosse the sole honour of having originated the infant-schools of these countries-schools which have proved such unspeakable blessings to the working-classes, and the whole institution is traceable to the first meeting of herself and "Mamma " Oberlin.

The celebrated Madame de Krudener, at a time when she was full of remorse and despair on account of her sinful life, sent one day for a shoe

maker to measure her. When the man came, his cheerful countenance seemed like a reproach to her depression. "My friend," she said, "are you happy?" "I am the happiest of men," was the answer. She said nothing; but the tone of his voice and his beaming look haunted her so that she could not sleep. She sent for him again, and inquired the secret of his happiness. He was a Moravian, and with the simplicity characteristic of the sect, he preached to her the crucified and risen Christ. She saw the love of God in His Son-felt it; and with all the fervour of a forgiven sinner, she loved Him Who had first loved her. Henceforth she became a great personal power and influence on the side of Christianity throughout the Continent of Europe. She carried the Gospel to all classes-to the poor of large cities, to persons of learning and fashion, to soldiers and condemned prisoners, to peasants and nobles. In a time of famine she sold all her possessions (her jewels alone fetched thirty thousand francs), to support the poor. She continued till her death on Christmas Day, 1822, a great leaven of righteousness working among the nations; and all owing to that first interview with the Moravian shoemaker.

After his conversion, Robert Haldane went to the Continent, and took up his residence for some time at Geneva. He was much distressed to see the low spiritual condition of the Protestant churches there, which had become infected with the rationalistic and neological views prevalent in Germany. Mr. Haldane invited a number of students attending the Theological School there to his house, that by free conversation he might combat their scepticism, and teach them the principles of Evangelical truth, and the nature of vital religion. Among the young men who accepted this invitation was one destined to become a champion of Evangelical Protestanism in Europe, and a powerful writer of world-wide fame. It was Henry Merle D'Aubigné's first visit to Robert Haldane that led to his conversion to Christ, and prepared the way for his becoming the author of the "History of the Reformation," and President of the New Evangelical School of Theology in Geneva.

Many years ago, when John Angell James was serving his apprenticeship in the little town of Poole, in Dorsetshire, he was introduced by a fellow-apprentice to a poor cobbler, whose conversation and influence dominated his career through life, and proved one of the chief springs of his usefulness. The man and his wife were eminently pious and communicative, and there was a gentleness and softness in their manners which were above their rank. In after years, Mr. James called these humble Christians his good Aquila and Priscilla." From them he received his first religious impressions, and

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when we think of his numerous and practical writings, we must not forget to trace back these precious results to the first interview between the linendraper's apprentice and John Poole the Dorsetshire cobbler.

One of the most important meetings between two public men was that between Richard Cobden

himself shall describe what passed. "I was in the depths of grief-I might almost say of despair, for the light and sunshine of my house had been extinguished. All that was left on earth of my young wife, except the memory of a sainted life and of a too brief happiness, was lying still and cold in the chamber above us. Mr. Cobden called upon me as his friend, and addressed me, as you might

After a

suppose, with words of condolence. time, he looked up and said, "There are thousands of houses in England at this moment, where wives, mothers, and children are dying of hunger. Now,' he said, when the first paroxysm of your grief is past, I would advise you to come with me, and we will never rest till the Corn Law is repealed.' I accepted his invitation. I knew that the description he had given of the homes of thousands was not an exaggerated description. I felt in my conscience that there was a work which somebody must do, and therefore I accepted the invitation; and from that time we never ceased to labour hard on behalf of the resolution we had made."

Under what strange circumstances Mr. George Hitchcock, the London merchant, first saw and heard the man who was to be the instrument of his conversion! A city missionary seemed one night to hear a voice saying to him, "Go and read the Bible to Mr. Hitchcock." Day after day the message was repeated, till one morning he summoned courage to attempt the task. Calling at Mr. Hitchcock's place of business, he asked to see him. After waiting some hours he was unsuccessful. The next day he called again, when one of the clerks asked his business; and when he said that he wished to read the Bible to Mr. Hitchcock, the man thought he was mad. All that day and the next, the anxious missionary waited to see the city merchant in vain. On the morning of the fourth day, Mr. Hitchcock was informed that a man had been waiting four days to see him, and forthwith he ordered him to be sent into his room. "Well," he said, "what do

you want?" "I wish to read the Bible to you, sir," replied the man, "that your soul may be saved." "Go away," said the merchant. "You must be mad to think of such a thing at a time like this." As he spoke, he pushed the man out, and shut the office door. No sooner had he resumed his seat, than he rose again, and quickly opening the door, called out, "Bring that man back." On the re-appearance of the missionary, Mr. Hitchcock expressed his regret for what had happened, and arranged that they would spend an hour a day in Bible-reading.

one

The space at disposal for this paper allows only one illustration more. On the last Sunday evening of October, 1842, a drunken dissipated wretch was staggering along one of the streets of Worcester, United States, when some tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round, and was confronted by a perfect stranger, who addressed him by name, and in a kind voice said, "You have been drinking to-day?" The drunken man confessed he had. "Why do you not sign the pledge?" was the next query. After a long conversation, and many entreaties, a promise was given to sign. The next night, at a totalabstinence meeting, the promise was made good, and John B. Gough took the pledge, in the presence of his stranger-friend. To that street interview with Joel Stratton, a waiter at a temperance hotel, the greatest orator of the total-abstinence platform owes his sobriety, and to his powerful advocacy thousands, on both sides of the Atlantic, owe their emancipation from the cursed thraldom of strong drink.

CROSS a little trellised arch

The creepers twine and kiss-
Jasmine and honeysuckle sweet,
And fragrant clematis.

And though the trellis seems so frail,
It bravely bears them all,

And holds them up 'mid storm and rain,

And will not let them fall.

And so it stands from year to year, Most fair to look upon,

Until Time gently touches it,

And all its strength is gone.

But now the creepers, stronger grown, Its tottering frame can bear;

And, close-entwined, they guard it well,

With tender loving care.

Just like the trellis, we should try

To help all those around,

And bear the burdens of the weak,

And raise them from the ground.

And who can tell but we in turn
May need support some day,
When those whom we have helped long since
May be our strength and stay!

Yet not for this must we do well-
To find a great reward-
But rather that we may fulfil

The law of Christ the Lord.

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AUL with a will, lads, haul with a will! Yo

"HA

hoy! yo-hoy! She's not deep down in the sand. Strikes me we shall soon get her off." "Yo-h-oy!" came in response from half-a-dozen strong voices; and as the long-drawn sounds rang out over the sea, six or eight pairs of brawny arms pulled away manfully at a fishing craft which, in the dark hours of the night, had become slightly grounded.

Away there across the German Ocean the great sun was rising up and up, apparently from the calm waters, in his chariot of gold and grey and rose and purple; higher in the heavens were pure fleecy clouds lightly trooping along, carrying on their beautiful surface the warning that sunshine and showers would probably mingle before nightfall -a warning strengthened by the restless movements of the sea-gulls, all expectant as they seemed, with more than human prescience, of stormy weather and a ruffled sea.

Westward, behind the labouring seamen, were the broad denes for which that part of the Eastern Coast of England is noted, with their miles of fishing nets

spread out on the grass to dry; and with their clumps of golden gorse, out of which the sky-larks so jubilantly spring for their joyous soar in cloudland. Behind the denes are the rugged hills, cliff-like as to form, but rich in purple heath and sturdy bracken, in tender moss and clustering wildflower; with flourishing blackberry bushes trailing here, and great patches of bright grass cropping up there. But the charms of those hills are endless; and our business is with the men in the surf below.

A sudden squall had sprung up in the night, when Timon Seeley, the master of the fishing vessel, had least expected it. He had cast anchor in the Yarmouth Roads at the time, and was just waiting for daybreak to light him into Summertown harbour with a famous cargo of fish, which had cost him and his crew a whole week's time to catch. But, alas! Timon's anchor-chain broke, and away scudded his little bark, before he could arouse his men, or quite make himself believe that he, the old experienced mariner-" Old Time," as his mates dubbed himcould by any possibility be running helplessly toward the shore.

Nevertheless, Old Time's Ark, as the vessel was 'called, did strike the beach-lightly, it is true; but it was a heavy matter for Time, for the Ark was his own property, the sole means of his support, and she was not insured. So, as she lazily flapped her rent sail in the breeze of early morning, Old Time smiled grimly to himself, and quoth he

"This t'be the first of April. I'd rather this 'ere calamity had a-happened any other day to an old salt like me. It be rather curious, I take it. Howsoe'er, if nobody else thinks of that circum-starnce I'll not remind 'em."

Now let us make our way across the fresh denes to a little red-brick cottage almost nestling under the hills. We enter by lifting the latch of a rustic gate, and walk through a garden, full of primroses and early red daisies. On the doorstep stands Mrs. Seeley, Time's good wife. She is looking earnestly away over the sea; she marks the busy gulls and the scudding clouds, and she thinks it high time that her husband should be home. She is very intent upon sea and sky, and she moves forward a pace or two that she may take a fuller survey. When, all at once, comes swinging along a young man-o'-war's man in his Sunday best.

She hears the step, and down from the clouds comes she. "Gran'son Jack!" she cries, as, with a rush, she flings open the garden gate. She kisses in motherly fashion the honest bronzed face that is beaming down upon her.

John Seeley was just home from a cruise, and was ordered out on another; so he had got leave to run down home and say "good-bye."