of Titus. A peasant boy was passing, and we could not help asking him, as we pointed to the ancient structure, 'Arco Tito?' Immediately he chattered a lengthy reply, of which we did not understand a single word. On this, a person, who seemed to be the boy's father, came up, and spoke to us at still greater length. But, not knowing Italian, we could only smile, bow our thanks, and move on. A few steps more satisfied us that our guess was correct. For there, on the one side under the arch, was the sculptured figure of the far famed seven-branched candlestick. We were now certain that we had reached the arch that tells about the destruction of Jerusalem, and the burning of the temple.

The view of the arch which you see in the engraving is that which looks towards the Colosseum. The inscription, which some of you may be able to spell out, is

SENATUS

POPULUSQUE ROMANUS

DIVO TITO DIVO VESPASIANI FILIO
VESPASIANO AUGUSTO.

The translation is as follows: The Senate and People of Rome, to great_Titus, son of the great Vespasian, during Vespasian's reign.' Titus was the son of the Emperor Vespasian. Titus was commander of the Roman army that laid siege to Jerusalem, and destroyed both city and temple. This took place forty years after the ascension of Christ, and fulfilled, to the letter, the prediction He made. When Titus returned to Rome, the Senate decreed him a triumph. Along the Sacred Way the general passed in his conquering car. Then came the spoils of Jerusalem,-priests and Levites in their robes of office, the sacred vessels from the Holy of Holies, and pictures (in all likelihood) of Judea captive sitting beneath her native palm. After these, in long files, came Jews and inhabitants of Palestine, weary of foot and weary of heart. Then came the Roman soldiers who had pitched their tents on the sides of Mount Olivet, and scaled the walls of the holy city, whilst all Rome was looking on to see the

procession pass. Now, it was to keep this triumphal entry into Rome in memory that Vespasian erected this Arch. Under the arch, on one side, is a representation of Titus in a quadriga, or chariot, drawn by four horses. On the other side there is a large bas-relief, sculptured in marble, of Jews carrying the table of shew-bread, others are bearing aloft the silver trumpets, and others still are carrying on their shoulders the seven-branched candlestick. The original is said to have been cast into the Tiber when Constantine conquered Maxentius, 300 years after Christ, and when Rome became a Christian instead of a heathen city. Somewhere amid the mud of the tawny Tiber that golden candlestick, which stood in the holy place at Jerusalem, lies embedded. light is quenched for evermore. But He to whom it bore witness has come. Christ is the Light of the world. And all who have received life from Him are lights too. And they are lights which will never be extinguished. They will shine like the

stars for ever and ever.

Its

Jerusalem was destroyed for not receiving Christ. The destruction foretold by Him overtook the devoted city. The story of that terrible destruction is written by Josephus, himself a Jew. It is to be

traced in the desolation which still hangs over the land of which it was the capital. And it is sculptured in this marble arch at Rome in such a way that, though all other record of it had been lost, the memory of it would still have remained. Jerusalem perished for her sin in rejecting her Saviour. Let us beware lest we perish in like manner. None of the Christians in Jerusalem perished. Ere the army of Titus sat down before the walls for the final siege, they had made their escape to Pella. And when there was woe in the holy city such as had not been since the world began, nor ever shall be, there was safety and peace in the mountain fastness. May we all betake ourselves for Refuge to God's mercy in Christ. Safe in that blessed sanctuary, no evil shall ever befall us, no token of judgment shall ever overtake us.

A. G. F.

8

'O little bright-eyed boy

Among the mulberry trees! And are you so full of joy,

And so glad of the summer breeze?

'I think, if you listen a while,

You will hear a step in the wood:Why do you only smile?

I want to be understood.

'Do you not know that here

(Ah yes! it is long ago) The people worshipped in fearThe people of Languedoc?

'And did you not hear who stept?

Perhaps you are yet too young: But I know that some watcher kept A watch while the others sung.

'And I know there were psalms to God
Rung out on the solemn hill;
And wherever the martyrs trod
I think there are echoes still.

"Yes, little bright-eyed boy,

Play under the mulberry trees; But sometimes pause in your joy And think with a heart at ease.'

Perhaps it is not easy with a heart glad and at ease to know how faithful and how brave were these poor French people long ago. One does not wonder how, listening in sunny and quiet places, one should seem to hear among the vines and chestnuts their step coming back again.

You know what was suffered by the Scotch Covenanters, and by those earlier martyrs of the reigns of James Fifth and Queen Mary. But the worst that was ever done on Scottish moor or castle does not equal the fearful stories told of these old Protestants of France.

Yet France is a bright land. La Belle France it has been called-France the beautiful. It is at least a rich country, with many fertile plains. It has also great mountain ranges the Pyrenees, which separate it from Spain, and the Alps, which separate it from Switzerland; and, running through central and southern France, the Vosges mountains and the Cevennes the scene of all the martyr stories which you shall hear soon.

On the slopes of the great mountains are forests of chestnut and beech-great ancient forests; France is rich in these. The Sweet or Spanish chestnut finds its favourite abode upon their brow—a beautiful and picturesque tree even in our own woods, but there throwing out its wild arms to meet the strong wind, and making of itself such a picture as it never does in our north. It is said in the early time, when the Huguenots met here, the birds sang louder and sweeter among the great woods. For the singing-birds of France have been so wantonly destroyed, that the people began to fear, and the rulers to make laws to protect them. There was a fuller feathered chorus to the psalms of the Huguenots than now can be heard in French forests to any song or psalm. And then there were the dim, dusky olive, and the large-leaved clinging vines, and the mulberries, where the silk-worms fed, and made the wealth of France.

ses.

The history of France is very long, and not told easily in a few words as here. It was conquered by the Romans in the early centuries, and later, by Burgundians and Franks. It became a great power under the Emperor Charlemagne, who ascended the throne in the year 768, while the Saxon kings ruled in England. Then there came monarchs whom we cannot even name, among them seven Louises, and then Philippe Auguste. In Philippe Auguste's reign was the persecution of the AlbigenPhilippe's, Charles's, and Louis'and then those other persecutions, so long and sad and wicked, which make the stories we must tell. These began in the time of our Queen Mary, when the Guises were great and strong in France, while Catherine de Medici, the wicked queen-mother, had power. They lasted, with brief pauses, down the many long years, till the fated Louis Sixteenth tried in vain to make France a happier country. For through all the dark of the centuries there were some who still saw the Light, and held it more dear and precious than life or liberty.

H. W. H. W.

THE BLIGHTED FLOWER.

HE was a lovely flower

SHE

Just opening to the light, And lovelier hour by hour

Seemed growing in our sight,

Till one sharp blast blew o'er our bed,
And left the flow'ret withered, dead.
'Twas hard to lose her so,
Nipt in the early bud;
Our hearts knew other woe,

But now a deepening flood
Sweeps o'er us, till within our breast
The sorrow will not be supprest.
A thousand winning ways
She had, her endless wiles
Lighting the darkest days

With sweetly answering smiles; Her lips seemed only made to kiss, Her life one little dream of bliss.

Her empty crib stands near;

The toys with which she played; Her memory makes them dear;

9

Her touch has all things made Most sacred; sages could not sound The spells her charms have strewn around. The cuckoo from the wall

No more her answer wakes;
Nor brother's joyous call

Her slumber ever breaks;
Their sisters wait them in the skies,
They say, with wonder in their eyes!
Yes, they are waiting there
The last, and eldest born,
Beauteous beyond compare,

Bright as the dawn of morn;
Within the everlasting gates
Our household's half in glory waits.
'Twas Love that willed it so,
Love infinitely wise;

Bidding our sorrows flow

That better joys may rise;

And so we trust, life's fever flown,

To find our flowrets at the Throne. J. K. M.

KEY E.

D.C.

Treb.

If

Who hast blessed us To be

gin the year with praise,—

10

SERAMPORE.

CAREY, MARSHMAN, AND WARD.

PERHAPS some of our young readers

don't know much about Serampore and the three devoted men who there did such a noble life-work. Carey, Marshman, and Ward, were sent to India by the first Protestant Missionary Society in Britain. This was the Baptist Missionary Society, which was formed in the year 1792, when your grandfathers and grandmothers were little boys and girls. We older folks used to listen to our mothers telling the thrilling story of this Society and its first missionaries, with as great interest as any child could feel in the most wonderful fairy tale.

William Carey, a poor shoemaker, had read Cook's Travels, and felt so distressed by the accounts of the pitiful state of the poor heathen who had never heard of Jesus Christ, that he could not rest without trying to carry the glad tidings to these dark places. He talked about this to a minister named Andrew Fuller. Fuller was at first much surprised at the idea of any one going to heathen lands to preach the gospel, for even good people had not then thought very much about Christ's command, 'Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.'

Mr

But Carey was so earnest, that Mr Fuller saw he was right, and said, 'Carey, if you will go down the pit, I will hold the rope.' It was so difficult in those days to go to distant lands, that it seemed like going down a dark pit; and Mr Fuller meant, by holding the rope, that he would try to interest other Christians to give their prayers, their sympathy, and their money to the good cause. Mr Fuller 'held the rope' so well, that the Baptist Missionary Society became one of the most successful in the world.

When a few friends got £13 2s. 6d. subscribed, Carey said he was willing to go to any part of the world that they wished. Very soon more money was sent, and in 1793 Carey sailed for Bengal in India. He landed at Calcutta, and laboured almost alone for six years, when Mr Fuller

and his friends were enabled to send four missionaries to work with him. Two of these, Mr Grant and Mr Brunsden, died very soon after they went to India; but Mr Marshman and Mr Ward laboured along with Carey for nearly forty years. The British Government would not allow these good missionaries to stay in Calcutta, so they got permission from the Danish Government to settle in Serampore, which at that time belonged to Denmark.

Here they learned several of the Indian languages; then they translated the Bible into these languages. Next they got a Printing Press, and from that Serampore press there were sent out eight editions of the whole Bible, and twenty-six editions of the New Testament, in the principal languages of India.

Carey set out with this motto, 'Expect great things, attempt great things,' and by believing prayer and persevering labour, he accomplished great things. These three missionaries kindled a flame in India, which has been spreading ever since, and will continue to spread, till the whole of Hindostan is filled with the light of the glorious gospel.

PRIZES FOR BIBLE QUESTIONS, 1876.

is scarcely possible that one should receive, month after month, from January to November, the results of earnest searchings of the Bible, without feeling a very deep interest in the competitors. The reading of the answers, and the careful registering of the marks, have all the excitement of a contest. Sometimes when a competitor has kept on for months making the highest number of marks, and then suddenly gives an answer which fails in securing any mark at all, I feel as if the disappointment were something personal to myself; and, on the other hand, when some answer is given which is full of ingenuity and thoughtfulness, though not quite the answer expected, I feel as if I could wish to see my young friends, and say how much pleased I am with the fact that, what had escaped my notice, had not escaped theirs. It is but right that the competitors should know that every answer which differs from that given in the December number, is carefully marked and gone over, in some cases more than once or twice, and is looked at on every side before a final decision is arrived at.