"Nothing, I fear," said he; "but my lamp is not out yet, and I am reading my Bible. The Lord is with me."

Help was called, and after a few hours' hard labour the miner's child was found dead. Ah, he had been "taught of the Lord," and great was his peace; and though he had been dying by inches down in that dark, dreary pit, his soul had gone from it to the bright glories of heaven.

And let me tell you of the peace that the Bible brought to a little girl, who was also a Sunday scholar. Her father was a drunkard; but though he did not love and obey God's Word, he let Bessie go to the Sabbath-school, and her teacher gave her a little red-covered Bible, with her name printed in gilt letters on the back. A very happy child was she when she went home and showed her treasure to her mother; and from that time she never failed to commit a verse to memory every day.

When Bessie was eight years old she was very sick. "Do you think I shall get well?" she asked the doctor.

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hope so," said he.

"But do you think I shall ?" said she; "I shan't be afraid to die, and go to heaven where Jesus is."

And when she grew worse, and they told her she must die, "I am glad," said she; "I love Jesus, and want to go to heaven. But when I go, I want

you to put my little Bible in my hands. God will let me carry it to heaven, I guess, because I am so little. Then when Jesus says, 'Suffer little children to come unto me,' I can turn right to the place ; and I know He will be glad I learned it while I was down here."

Bessie's father was sitting close beside her, and he burst into tears, for it almost broke his heart to think she was going to leave him. Soon he sobbed out, "Shall I not gee you again, my little girl!" And then she put her weak little hand in his, and whispered, "If you love the Saviour, dear father, you will go to heaven. Won't you love Him? I shall want you and mother to be there."

"I don't know what to do. I don't know how to find the way," said the poor man.

Then little Bessie's face brightened, and she said to her teacher, "Don't put my Bible in my hands when I go. I want father to have it; and when I get to heaven, I will tell Jesus that I left my little Bible to show dear father and mother how to find the way. Be sure you come, father; be sure-you -come."

The father and mother wept over her coffin, and held her little Bible in their clasped hands. And then they read and studied that Bible till they had found the way to heaven.

Little Bessie had been "taught of the Lord," and "great" was her "peace."

You all need this peace. You need it now; for you cannot be happy too soon. You need it every day; for the youngest child has his little sorrows, and needs Christ's love to cheer him--has his tears for Christ to wipe away. You need it every night when you go to your rest, not knowing whether you shall awake in this world or the next. Oh, how delightful then to say with the psalmist, "I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep; for Thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety." You will need it when you die, and your soul goes up to God who gave it. You will need it when you stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. You will need it through all eternity. Oh then, will you not become a scholar in the school of Christ, and learn of Him, and be taught of God, laying up His truths in your heart and obeying them in your life? Hark! God himself speaks to you by His Word, and asks you this great question: "Wilt thou not from this time," that is, from this hour, this moment,

cry unto me, My Father, thou art the guide of my youth?" What is your answer?

VII.

The Little Soldier.

"WE fight against evil, and battle with wrong;
Our sword is the Bible, both trusty and strong;
Our watchword is prayer, and faith is our shield;
And never, no, never, to foes will we yield.

"In the midst of our conflicts we 'll think of the Lord,
Who died on the cross, and from death was restored,
To save us from sin, and to give us a place
With the angels, who always behold His bright face.

"To Jesus, our Captain, hosannas we raise,
And join with our teachers in singing His praise;
His soldiers we are, and His soldiers will be,

Till we lay down our armour, and death sets us free."