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SUNDAY IN THE GOLDFIELDS.
UNDAY in Old England,

Father, mother, children,
Church bells ringing sweet,

Kneeling side by side, Calling in the people

Chanting to soft music, From the village street;

'Lord, with us abide!'

IN the year 1793, at a place in France

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Sunday in the goldfields,

BLASPHEMY PUNISHED.
Far away from home,
Where the treasure-seekers,

called Conches, the family and friends Restless, toil and roam.

of a well-to-do peasant were sitting round Rough their outer garment,

a table on which there were all kinds of Rougher still the heart;

food. There was plenty of wine, too, which Gadarene like,* say they,

was not spared. ‘Lord, from us depart?'

After the meal was over they all sat Nay, they look back fondly

round the stove, and a lively conversation To their childish days

arose about the various conflicts in which To the church bells ringing,

the National Guard had been engaged, about To the song of praise,

the plundered cities and castles, and stories To the worn old Bible

were related about the most horrid and On the cottage shelf,

cruel deeds which were all too common in To its well-known pictures,

that dreadful age. To the Cbrist Himself.

By-and-by the conversation turned upon In these softer moments

the subject of religion, and the clergy, Comes some earnest soul,

whom the people had been taught to hate,

and who were then driven about from place Draws their thoughts up higher

to place like wild beasts. Than yon glittering hole;

“You are a lazy set,' cried a young Shows them, 'neath the brilliance

woman, the mistress of the house.

• What Of a stranger sky, That same childhood's Saviour,

are you doing, useless talkers?

If it only That same God, anigh.

depended on you, you would allow us to

be murdered in our own houses by these Leads the dear Our Father,'

wretched priests? Is it not a shame, she As in days of old,

said in angry excitement, that this priest of

' Bids them lay up treasure

Conches is still lurking about in our neighRicher far than gold.

bourhood ? One fine morning he will bring Never a church bell ringeth

his companions in robbery and murder with On yon sandy plain,

him and will fall upon us. If I were a Yet the sound of worship

man I would set you an example. NeverSunday brings again. H. A. F.

theless, this evening he must be in my

hands.' •WHY DON'T YOU SWEAR?'

"Hold your tongue,' said her husband,

we don't even know whereabouts this rascal boys do,' asked one small fellow of is hiding.' another.

'If that is all you want to know,' said I'd cut my tongue out rather than

the woman, 'I will soon find him. Go one swear,' was the brave and right reply of the of you to fetch the soldiers, and you, other. "God is my heavenly Father; and husband, lie down in bed and play the do you think I'd speak ugly words of my sick man.

I will bring the priest soon Father ?'— Sabbath-School Messenger.

enough. The soldiers will hide behind the * St. Luke, viii. 37.

curtains; at the right time they can seize

WHY don't you swear ? all the other

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him, and deliver him up, so that his life not seeking for your life,' cried one of the may be put an end to.

What do you say

soldiers, falling on his knees before the to that?'

priest. "This, indeed, was our evil intenThe wicked company praised the base tion, but we now confess that there is a God and cruel plan, and soon the soldiers came, Who punishes blasphemy. This man was and they soon finished the remains of the a few minutes ago in perfect health, and supper.

was laughing with us. From the moment Make yourselves comfortable,' cried the that he heard your step he did not give a woman, as she lighted a lantern and threw sign of life, a handkerchief over her head. I will fetch Who cannot help shuddering at this the priest at once.'

proof of the power of God, Who is proShe went. Her husband lay down in voked by the wicked every day? the bed. The soldiers hid themselves. Till the year 1846 the priest was still It was not long before the woman stood living in Conches. before the priest, whose place of conceal- The widow of the man who had pretended ment had been betrayed to her, and said illness had a wretched, weary life. She weeping, and with a feigned voice, 'Oh, M. suffered from cancer in the face. Her le Curé! my husband lies dying. We can- relations abandoned her; every one fled from not get any word out of him except "Fetch

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her, as an outcast smitten with the curse the priest:" if you don't come the poor man of Heaven. The only helper or visitor that will be lost! Do come! make haste!' she had was the now aged priest whose

The good pastor did not hesitate a mo- destruction she had sought, and who now ment, and, ready to sacrifice his life to save supported her by alms and tried to coma soul, he fell at once into the trap.

fort her by prayers, and to give hope of But God watched over the life of His the mercy of God.

J. F. C. servant, and brought the snares of the ungodly to no effect. The priest entered the

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE EAST. house, went up to the bed of the pretended

LAMPS. sick man, and said,

THE

THE people of the East often light up "Well, my friend, how are you ?'

their rooms very brightly with lamps No answer.

and lanterns. The large lamps are hung You wished to speak with me alone?' on a string which stretches from wall to No answer.

wall, the smaller they carry in their hands. • You cannot answer me, you are so weak? They are made of pottery, glass, or metal, Let me feel your pulse.' He took up the and oil is burnt in them. The golden hand and felt that it was icy cold.

candlestick with seven branches, which was Oh, my good people, you have fetched

lighted every evening in the Holy Place of me too late!' cried the priest:“the man is the Tabernacle, was made of gold, and there already quite dead! What is this?' he was an oil-lamp at the end of each branch. exclaimed, when he saw the soldiers who We are taught in the parable of the wise came forward at these words.

"You are and foolish virgins to have our lamps always seeking for my life! You have deceived

You have deceived trimmed, which means, that our hearts me: may God pardon you for it!'

should always be ready to learn and to do “No, no, pardon me, M. le Cure, we are the will of God.

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