"See how God directs us to study these works of creation. It is plainly so in the chapter we have just read. So also in other places. In the book of Job (xxxviii., xxxix., xl., xli.) God speaks out of the whirlwind; but all his discourse is concerning the wonders of creation.

"We must not confine ourselves to the book of nature. If we had no other guide, its characters would be unintelligible. They would speak a strange language. The heathen have the book of nature; but they read it amiss. Blessed be God for this other Book, the Book of revelation!" (and here Dr. Newman laid his hand on the great folio Bible which lay before him.) "Here we learn, what brilliant sunsets can never teach us, that God so loved the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. But, after we have learned this blessed gospel-truth from the Scriptures, we can come back to the book of nature, with its beautiful sunsets, and behold, in every hue and every cloud, an emblem of God's love and

mercy. Therefore, my children, believe in God, and then, when you turn your eyes towards the crimson and gold of the gorgeous west, you may say to yourselves, 'The God who displays those lovely signs, is my Father, through Jesus Christ.""

Then they joined in singing the following version of the 19th Psalm:

I love the volume of thy word;
What light and joy those leaves afford
To souls benighted and distressed!
Thy precepts guide my doubtful way,
Thy fear forbids my feet to stray,

Thy promise leads my heart to rest.

Thy threatenings wake my slumbering eyes,
And warn me where my danger lies;

But 'tis thy blessed gospel, Lord,
That makes my guilty conscience clean,
Converts my soul, subdues my sin,

And gives a free, but large reward.

Who knows the error of his thoughts?
My God, forgive my secret faults,

And from presumptuous sins restrain:
Accept my poor attempts of praise,
That I have read thy book of grace

And book of nature not in vain.

It is a happy thing for our children, when they go to a school where religious service is not made a drudgery, but is connected with pleasing associations. Such was the case at the Oaks. There was no boy who remained there long who did not love the sound of the bugle, which called him to this short but interesting exercise. Dr. Newman almost always made an address, but it was seldom longer than that which has been given above. It was customary at the Oaks, after tea, to spend some time in walking, or, if the time of year were forbidding, in athletic games, in a large covered play-room, called the hippodrome. This was not indeed the hour for their regular gymnastic exercise; but it was spent in this place, because of the large space allowed for walking and running, and for forming little groups for conversation. However inclement the weather might be, here the boys found themselves warm and sheltered; and the recreation was good before returning to the short tasks of the evening. But the plan of the school did not admit

of much work by candle-light, for early rising was the order of the day. Into this hippodrome the larger boys went at all times during play-hours; and here they were assembled in considerable force on the evening in question.

A large lamp of stained glass hung from the centre of the roof, and cast a pleasant gleam over the space below. A knot of gay young fellows, in loose summer-dress, was seen in the inner circle, some leaning on benches, and some arm-in-arm, against the column in the midst. It was evident that some plan was on foot; for boys are planning creatures, and it is well when their schemes involve no mischief. I am glad to say, such was now the case. They were talking in a low tone about the pale German boy, Carl Adler. Carl had come to school with scarcely any knowledge of English, and a few months had not sufficed to remove his oddities of pronunciation. He could not for his life say, "Thirty thousand thorns thrust through the thick of their thumbs." The attempt to utter this formidable formula, which

he never refused, used to produce peals of laughter, such as are heard only from a group of boys. Few at this age can abstain from running rigs on a comrade. But Carl, though he used to redden, and hang his head, never lost his temper; and this won him some favour. Though he could not talk English well, he was the best Frenchman in the school; indeed, he spoke the language fluently. Then he was far before the rest of his age in Latin. He could swim, wrestle, and fence; and was always ready to do a favour. That evening, the boys had observed him weeping under the chestnut-tree.

Boys are as sagacious about such things as men they knew he was thinking of home, and the word home is sweet at a boarding-school. But little Carl's home was far over the sea, on the Rhine; and he was an orphan; and, what was more, the boys had learned, within a few days, that he was poor, and that his uncle, Mr. Schneckenburg, had written to Dr. Newman that he must be taken away and put to a trade. Now they began to regret their ridicule of the