THE "REFINER'S FIRE."

BY CATHARINE M. A. COUPER.

LITTLE Ned Gibson was sitting by the window one fine Saturday afternoon, with his books before him, preparing his lesson for the Sunday School. His attention was divided between his books, and his sisters at play on the grass-plot before the house. He had learned his hymn, and his Scripture geography, and he was now poring over a slip of paper, on which he had written down the text, on which his teacher had made a moral lesson that all the scholars were to try and remember, and write in their own words, with the addition of any thoughts of their own.

"Refiner's fire-refiner's fire," murmured Ned to himself, "I really can't remember what Mr. Locke said about it,-I think there was something about troubles making us better, but I don't think they do; I am sure that I always feel better when things go smooth, and when I'm not put out of my way; then I don't remember what a refiner is, I dare say he told us. Oh dear, I wish I had asked my mother about it last Sunday evening; she advised me to do it then, but I wanted to read the book from the library; and now she won't be home till after my bed time. Oh dear, oh! dear, I wish Mr. Locke would not give us such hard things to do." And then he wasted five minutes in looking out of the window, and wishing he had done his lessons, that he might go out to play, not however acknowledging to himself that if he had attended to his mother's advice and done them in the morning, when his sisters were busy, and when he could have consulted her in any difficulty, he would now have been at leisure to amuse himself. He often boasted how quickly he could learn his lessons, and how seldom he had to ask help; indeed his confidence in his own powers was one of his great faults, for it brought with it an idea of his own way being always the best. Having now forgotten all that his teacher had said about the effect of refining the metal, and thus purifying it from the dross or inferior substances, and having a very slight idea of what he had told them of the purifying effect of trial, we may easily suppose that what he did write down was little worth the reading. He stood up in his class the next day reluctantly, for he was generally ready with all his lessons, and proud of being usually perfect. Mr. Locke again explained the words, but Ned was not at all in a frame of mind to receive the truth of the comparison, for his present trial of feeling that what he had written was worse than what had been done by any of the others, made him cross and irritable.

On going home, his mother, who had suspected in the morning that he was not going to school so happily as usual, drew the whole account from him, and gently pointed out, how completely he had brought upon himself his present uncomfortable feelings, by not attending to her advice in thinking of his lesson while he had in his mind what his teacher had said, and she showed him how he might turn the trouble to advantage, by being more watchful for the future against this too common fault of his.

We will now pass over two years, and again visit Mr. Locke's class at the Sunday School. Time had brought its usual changes, and amongst others, we see, that there is a blind boy sitting next to his teacher. His eyelids were closed, but his head was turned to Mr. Locke, as if he could see the earnest face that made still more impressive the affectionate words in which he commented on the text, “Before I was afflicted I went astray."

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"but none

"You have all done well to day, my boys," he said, have so completely entered into the spirit of the meaning as you,' turning to the blind boy, and laying his hand upon his shoulder; 'and it is natural it should be so, we remember better and feel more clearly what agrees with our own experience. For those who have never been greatly tried, it is difficult to suppose that afflictions can improve them."

School was now broken up, and Mr. Locke, giving his arm to the blind boy, said he would walk home with him, and see his mother. At the door of the school-room, they met a little girl waiting to take care of her blind brother, and though her assistance was now unnecessary, she took his other hand, and all three went slowly home.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Gibson," said Mr Locke, as they found her sitting in the porch, enjoying the fine evening and the sweet smell of the flowers in the little garden; "I have walked home with Ned to see you and have a little chat with you, and perhaps you can give me a cup of tea before evening service."

"Most gladly, sir," replied Mrs. Gibson. "Lucy, dear, tell Anne to put another cup for Mr. Locke. Oh, sir," she added in a low tone, for her son had gone into the house, "what a happy change there is in poor Ned since he lost his eyesight; he is not like the same boy; he was always affectionate, but he is now so docile, so willing to take advice of others, and so ready too, to give his help in anything he can do, which is but a little, poor fellow!" "We will not call him 'poor,'" said Mr. Locke, his affliction has been to him a means of great blessing, as he said in his exercise this afternoon, in the words, Before I was afflicted I went astray.'

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Though his eyes are closed to the beauties of earth, his spiritual senses are quickened; he is the readiest of any in my class to see a moral beauty, and there is a remarkable purity and delicacy about all his feelings, which would be ill exchanged for the keenest and liveliest powers of vision. Truly he has passed through the 'refiner's fire,' and all that was dross has been consumed, and the pure rich metal left. He is a happier boy now, I believe, than he was two years since, with all his health and vigour."

Ned came into the porch just as Mr. Locke was saying these last words, and as if he thought they were meant to satisfy some doubt in his mother's mind, he took her hand affectionately, and said, "yes, indeed, I am, my dear mother; I have learnt now the good effect of the refiner's fire,' and I pray that I may be yet further purified."

SOMETHING ABOUT LUTHER.

(Continued from page 20.)

"So, my dear children," said Mr. Morton, "you have not forgotten my promise to tell you something of Luther's history. I'm quite ready now to begin, but first, Emma, you had better light a candle, and get the large book of maps (if it is not too heavy for you to lift)!—there, now you can look out for the towns I shall tell you of, and that will help to fix them in your memory. Martin Luther was born in the year 1483; how long is that ago, Bob?" The answer was long in coming, but it proved at last correct.

Why, 372 years Papa: what a long time!"

"He was born in a town called Eislaben, in Saxony; have you found Eislaben, Emma, in the map? you must look for it in the

map

of Saxony you know, yes,-there it is,-now show it to your brother." Well, now, are you ready for me to go on?"

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Oh yes, Papa, quite; did Luther go to school when he was a little boy?"

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'Yes, when he was old enough, his parents sent him to a school, or University, as it is called, at Erfurt, where he received a very good education. He was a clever, promising youth, and his friends wished him to go into the law, thinking that he then would be sure of making a fortune, but Luther had no fancy to be a lawyer, and at the age of twenty-one, a circumstance happened which had a great effect upon his mind. One day, it is said, when walking out with a young friend of his, whose name was Alexis, a violent thunder

storm came on, and a flash of lightning struck Alexis dead at Luther's side. Luther was of a very thoughtful, religious turn of mind, and the sight of this early death made him feel very strongly the uncertainty of his own life; so, contrary to the advice of his friends, he determined to enter a Monastery, thinking that this was the best way of preparing himself for heaven; do you know what a monastery or convent is, Robert ?”

"Yes, Papa, I think I do, a monastery is a great house, a building where a good many men live together, shut up from all the world, and spend their time in prayer, and reading religious books."

"Quite right, my boy: there are establishments of the same kind for women, you know, which go by the name of convents or nunneries. In the Catholic countries abroad, there are a great many monastries and nunneries, but there are not many now in England, because the great mass of people in this country are Protestants, and Protestants think that to shut themselves up from all the world, is not the best way of doing good, either to themselves or to others." No, Papa, I should think not; you said cousin Arthur was selfish the other day, when he shut himself in the study to read, though we did want him so to help to sweep the snow from the path in the garden, for Mamma to walk in." Mr. Morton smiled, as he replied,

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And you think monks and nuns are selfish in the same way; well, you are partly right; still don't suppose that there are not a great many good people among them, people who, like Luther, go into convents for the best of motives. Luther's life in the monastery is said not to have been a happy one; he fasted a great deal, and went through many severe penances, but still there was something in the Roman Catholic religion which did not seem to satisfy his mind. His great talents attracted much notice, however, and about four years after he had entered his monastery, the Elector of Saxony chose,"

"I beg pardon for stopping you, Papa," said Emma, "but what is the Elector of Saxony,-is it another name for king?"

"Yes, my dear, Elector was the title given to the kings of Saxony, because they had the right of choosing, or electing, the person who was to be Emperor of Germany. Well, the Elector of Saxony, Luther's sovereign, you know, was a great encourager of learning; and he built a university for the education of young men, at Wittenburg, a town, Emma, which lies, as you will see, a good deal to the north of Erfurt, and appointed Luther to be one of its teachers, or professors, as they are more properly called."

"And was Luther allowed to leave his monastery, then, Papa?"

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'Yes, he left Erfurt, and went to live at Wittenburg, where he was so much admired for his learning and talents, that though still quite a young man, he was trusted to go to Rome, in order to settle a dispute of some importance, which had taken place between two orders of monks. Luther was much pleased with the commission, for he looked upon Rome as a very holy city, and fancied he should find the clergy who resided there distinguished for their piety and goodness. Contrary to his expectations, however, he was greatly shocked by the conduct of many of the cardinals and priests he there became acquainted with, and he returned to Wittenburg, grieved, and bitterly disappointed. After his return, he began very attentively to study the Bible, which he, being a monk, was allowed to read."

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"A monk! Papa," cried Robert, was not any body allowed to read it, then ?"

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No, all the Bibles were then in Latin or Greek languages, which the people generally could not understand; besides they were expressly forbidden to read the Bible for themselves."

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Oh! what a pity, I shouldn't like that at all; how could they learn to be good, then?"

"Ah! my dear children, should not we who have the blessing of the Bible, be very careful, lest that blessing should be bestowed upon us in vain? To whomsoever much has been given, of him, remember, much will also be required."

(To be continued.)

MARY SILVESTER.

"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap if we faint not."-Gal. vi. 9.

ONE hot afternoon in July, in the year 1843, a young girl might be seen walking wearily along the high road, between Limerick and the village of C, about five miles distant. Her appearance

bespoke poverty and many cares, but her features wore a singular expression of gentleness and patience. Mary Silvester, for such was her name, was just returning from Limerick, where she had been to take the gloves, which had formed her work during the past week. She now carried a basket of provisions, and the few shillings which remained from her earnings. Mary was an orphan, having lost her parents during a severe winter, five years before, when she was cast on the world without any protection. Her loving mother