Would she shrink from the sight that . should meet her? Phemie had no time to think. She closed her ears against the victory bells that were ringing in the village streets, for many broken hearts were the price of victory.

Phemie knelt on the battle field beside a dying man. She put her flask to his lips, and leaned his head against her breast. And her tears fell fast upon his dusty hair, for life was ebbing from him; she knew he would see no more sunshine, nor any loved face again.

He did not know a stranger tended him; his thoughts were wandering away, as the thoughts of the dying do to old familiar days. Phemie heard his faint, broken words, and she whispered a prayer between -listening, with strained ear, to catch any name or message that might comfort some stricken home.

You will play the music for me!' Phemie started, and shivered. Her thoughts went back with one bound to the pool among the pine shadows; to the little brother's childish words that were so like these. And she answered as she had answered that brother, yet in scarce an audible voice, 'Yes, to be sure I will.'

Phemie thought it would comfort the soldier; that he would take the words to his heart, thinking another spoke them, if indeed the troubled, wandering brain could now receive, or be comforted by any human words.

'Phemie!'

The blue, soft dying eyes looked up to hers through the starlight with a vacant, perplexed gaze, and then they turned away. But through Phemie the voice and the name thrilled as a long lost bliss, and yet, with a great agony that bent her soul like a reed. She knew them now-the child eyes she had loved; the lips she had kissed so often; the brother's voice! Like an unreal thing, vanished all the years between; they were little brother and sister together in the wood once more. Phemie felt it was so. She hushed as she could all the wild tumult of feeling that rose within her

breast, and said, in low voice, Yes, Harry, I have come.'

And Harry, too weak to wonder, leaned his head more heavily on her breast, and said, with a faint consent, I knew you would.'

You will play the music for me, for you will be first home; the Lord Christ will take you there very soon, dear.'

Harry said nothing; but one single ray of light-joyful, serene-shone from his dim eyes. Then the lids folded over them, and never rose again.

'Phemie!' he spoke in the darkness. 'I am here, Harry.'

But Harry had passed away. The joyful welcoming music had greeted the new home-comer ere Phemie, among the damp earth-dews, knew that the soul had gone thence.

And what more of Phemie? There is nothing more. And of Harry? No.

For the story is finished, as the stories of all our lives must be-beyond the mists of time, within the unknown eternity. Little and sad fragments would be the best of our histories here, but for the crowned love and hope to which, for Jesus' sake, death shall lead us there.

In the sheltered village churchyard, on the stone over Harry's grave-under his name, and a date-there was carved the brief line: Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously.'

And people wondered why these words from Miriam's song were chosen; but Phemie, who had chosen them, loved to remember why.

That glad, trustful light in her brother's closing eyes would linger a sweet, unsetting sun in her heart till heaven's dawn. They were songs of praise now which came for ever to her lips; not mournful melodies, although she waited alone still.

For the triumph of a life is not in winning wealth, power, or praise, but in serving God faithfully, and winning, through the love of Jesus, entrance to that joyful immortality, where love is no longer fearful, nor knowledge dim.

H. W. H. W.

ND the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on His head, and they put on Him a purple robe, and said, Hail, King of the Jews; and they smote Him with their hands.'

Why did they do that, Mamma?' asked little Maggie, when she had read these words.

They did it in mockery, because Jesus had told them that He had come into the world to set up His own kingdom. They would not have Him to reign over them, and when preparing to crucify Him, in cruel mockery they crowned Him with thorns.'

'Mamma,' said little Harry, 'my hymn

'But even then when He was nailed on the cross, Jesus had a throne in this world. Where was it? If you read verses 25-27, I think you will know,' and Katie read,

"Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene &c.""

'You mean that Jesus had a throne in the hearts of His disciples. He was their King, and they loved Him, and obeyed Him.'

'Yes, Katie. Christ's throne is in the hearts of His people. His disciples were then only a little band, and they did not understand why He should suffer and die, but soon they learned the meaning of all these things, and preached Jesus exalted a Prince and a Saviour. But there is another king who reigns in the hearts of men. Who is he? Harry.'

'It is Satan.'

'Satan is the prince of this world. The heart of man is his palace, and he reigns there till Christ the stronger than he conquers him and reigns himself. The question you have been learning from the Catechism is about this. How doth Christ

execute the office of a King?' and Willie repeated,

* Christ executeth the office of a King, in subduing us to himself, in ruling and defending us, and in restraining and conquering all His and our enemies.'

That answer names five things which Christ does for us as our King. What is the first of these?'

““Subduing us to Himself," is the first one, mamma.'

Yes. When Jesus comes to the door of the human heart, He finds it barred against Him, because Satan is reigning within, and He sends the Holy Spirit to dethrone the evil one. Then the sinner opens the door, and the King of glory comes into his heart and reigns there for ever. You remember how fast Saul of Tarsus had locked the door of his heart against Jesus when he was persecuting his people?'

And did he open the door and let Jesus in that day when he heard His voice on the road to Damascus?' asked Maggie.

'The words, "I am Jesus whom thou persecutest," unlocked the door, and Saul opened it wide when he said, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do."'

of

'Mamma,' said Katie, 'is that the meaning

'Ye gates, lift up your heads; ye doors, Doors that do last for aye,

Be lifted up, that so the King

Of glory enter may"?'

'That is one meaning of these words, and they also mean that the golden gates of the palace above were opened wide to receive Jesus when He ascended to His heavenly throne. Jesus has a throne in heaven, and a throne in the hearts of His people. Now, Willie, what does Jesus do for His people after He has subdued them to Himself?'

Ruling comes next, and then defending us. I know what ruling means. It is giving us laws.'

'When Jesus reigns in the heart, He writes His commandments there. From the day when Saul acknowledged Christ as his King, his life motto was WHOSE I AM,

AND WHOM I SERVE. He became a good soldier in the King's army, and the King put upon him his own armour to defend him from evil.'

I know what armour you mean, mamma,' said Katie; it is this,' and she read, "Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God." The minister read these verses, and told us all about the armour when he was preaching the sermon to the children about a good soldier of Jesus Christ.'

'I am glad you remembered that, dear, and I hope each one of you will ask the King of glory to write His holy laws in your heart, and put upon you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. You know Christ's soldiers must fight His and their enemies. Can Harry tell me who are His and our enemies?'

'Satan and wicked men are Jesus' enemies, mamma.'

'And sin is Jesus' enemy too,' added Maggie.

Yes, all these are Christ's enemies, and if we are His soldiers, He will make us more than conquerors over them all. I once heard a little boy pray, "O Lord, make us conquerors in the battle." Do you know how we can be conquerors in the life-long war?'

'Because Jesus conquered Satan when He died on the cross. He fights for us,' said Katie.

'Yes. Jesus conquered sin and Satan for us on the cross, and He conquers them in us by His Holy Spirit. You know, Willie, who is the last enemy?'

'It is death, for it is called the King of terrors.'

And yet death the last enemy shall be destroyed. Christ has abolished death, and when His people pass through the valley of

the shadow of death, they need fear no evil. I once knew a little boy who understood this so well, that when told by a friend that those who loved Jesus need not be afraid of death, he at once replied, "I know that, O death, where is thy sting, O grave, where is thy victory." And when death was very near, he never spoke of it but sweetly said, "If I don't get better, Jesus will come Himself and take me to heaven." And Jesus did come and take His little one to receive the "crown for little children above the bright blue sky." That is how Jesus conquers His and our enemies. But the answer says, in restraining them. What is that, Katie?'

'I don't know very well, but I think it means that He does not let them do all the wicked things they wish to do.'

Quite right. I see you understand it. Often God disappoints the devices of the crafty, so that their hands cannot perform their enterprise. You know the story of Haman?

'He was a very bad man. He wanted to kill all the Jews because he was angry with good Mordecai. And Mordecai told queen Esther what Haman wished to do, and she told the King, and he would not let the Jews be killed, but hanged Haman himself.'

'God restrained Haman, so that instead of killing the Jews he brought punishment on himself. There are only two little words in the answer which I wish you to notice now, us and our, because if Christ does not rule and defend us, restrain and conquer our foes, then we must be His enemies.'

Surely you will choose Jesus for your King. You will open the door of your heart that the King of glory may come in.

'O dwell within us,
Strengthen our faith,
King who didst win us
Over from death.

Fashion us here for Thy city above,
Built of heart-palaces, founded in love.
Glad hearts and voices

Worship and sing;
Heaven rejoices,
Jesus is King!'

THE

last two. It is not of a man young and graceful and learned, with many rich and noble friends; but of a poor old lame and feeble priest, who only loved God, and had faith, and would not teach the people what was wrong.

Because of the good words he said the other priests were very angry, and he had to go away from poor Scotland as George Wishart had done. He went across the sea to Germany, where you know Luther lived; and there he learned many more things which comforted him, and with which he thought he would like to come back and comfort his own people.

So he came back, and was very glad

when the ship came in on the Fife shore, and he saw his native fields again. He had been a long, long time away. The little boys of Lunan he had taught, and smiled on, and reproved, were bearded men now, doing their own work. And the little lasses were mothers, crooning to their babies, and maybe telling their elder bairns of the Father Walter who long ago went away across the sea. They would not know him when he came back and stood at their cottage doors, with the stoop of age on his worn wasted shoulders, and the quaver in his feeble voice.

But the priests remembered him well; and they seized him at Dysart one day, and carried him, by the bishops'

orders, to that dreary castle of St. Andrews.

After he had been here a while, they took him into the Cathedral, where the bishops were gathered to hear what he would say. They thought through the great church his voice would scarcely be heard, because he was so worn with the sorrows and hardships of his eighty-two years.

First he kneeled down, and prayed in meek silence, forgetting all the pomp of the gathered bishops in his earnest pleading with His God.

You keep my Lord of St. Andrews waiting too long,' said a priest.

Then old Walter Mill rose up. A gleam of April sunshine might come in through the long painted windows and glorify the crown of white hair, and the brave, truthful, furrowed brow. And when he spoke, his voice, with never a quaver in it, rang through the Cathedral arches, and filled all who heard him with amaze. Many charges were laid against him. Bold and simple and clear were the words of the worn old priest.

You preach privately in houses, and sometimes in a field,' said Sir Andrew Oliphant.

'Yea,' answered stout old Walter, and on the sea also, when sailing in a ship.'

'If you will not recant,' said Sir Andrew, 'I shall sentence you to death.'

'I know I must die once,' answered, steadfastly, Walter Mill, and therefore what thou doest do quickly, for I will not recant the truth.'

And so against this faithful old man the cruel sentence was spoken, that he should be burned as a heretic in front of the castle of St. Andrews. But the people respected his grey hairs, and rose in their wrathful sorrow. There could not be ropes had to bind him, nor wood to make the fire. provost refused to do his duty, and left the town in haste. So moved to its heart was St. Andrews with anger and pity and grief.

The

But for only one day could it hinder the death of Walter Mill. What the priests were resolved on they soon found means to do. Ropes from the bishop's pavilion

were taken to bind the prisoner, and the bishop's own servant led him to the stake.

'I am now eighty-two years old,' he said, as he went forth, I could not live long by nature, but an hundred shall rise from my ashes to testify for God's truth.'

When he had come to the stake he wished to speak to the people.

You have spoken too much,' he was answered.

But some young men in the crowd said, Nay, he shall speak what he pleases.'

Among all those pitiful faces, his enemies could not hinder him further. So he bowed his knees and prayed; then, standing erect on the coal, he spoke his last solemn words to the great silent crowd:

'Dear friends, I suffer this day, not for any crime laid to my charge, but only for the defence of the truths of Jesus Christ. I praise God that He hath called me among the rest of His servants to seal His truth with my life. Depend only on Jesus and His mercy, that so ye may be delivered from condemnation.'

Sobs and loud murmurs were heard passing through the crowd as he closed his eyes.

But the fire is kindled round him!

'Lord, have mercy on me,' prays the martyr. Then his eyes fall once more on the pitiful upturned faces.

Pray, pray, he entreats, 'good people, while there is time!'

'And so,' adds John Howie, 'he cheerfully yielded up his soul into the hands of his God on the twenty-eighth of April, 1558.'

But this, for many a year, was the last martyrdom in Scotland. The people could bear no more. They heaped up a great pile of stones to keep that death in memory. The priests had the stones taken away by day, but the people again heaped them up by night. Night after night they raised and re-raised that pile of fearful memory; and bound themselves, by solemn oath, to resist, with the sword, the priestly tyranny.

H. W. H. W.